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4 ! 



BOOKS BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID 


IttimroD ;iEMtlon 


ILLUSTRATED 

Boy Hunters ; or, Adventures in Search of a White 
Buffalo. 

Bush Boys. Adventures of a Family in South 
Africa. 

Young Voyageurs. The Boy Hunters in the North. 

“Now-a-days, in place of lecturers, the world of little folks 
has its race of story-tellers who are ‘ boys with the boys ’ and 
are none the less efficient for being cheerful. Among these the 
Captain is at the head of the company, and right worthily does he 
perform his office.”— London Athenceum. 

G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS 

NEW YORK & LONDON 







OUTWITTING THE BEAR 


1t1tmro& Edition 


THE BOY HUNTERS 

OR ADVENTURES IN SEARCH OF A 
WHITE BUFFALO 


BY 

CAPTAIN MAYNE REID 

AUTHOR OK “the BUSH BOYS,” “ THE YOUNG VOYAGEUKS,” ETC. 



ILLUSTRATED 


G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS \ -Y 


NEW YORK 

a? WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET 

®be f\nith£ibocktr IJrtss 


LONDON 

24 BEDFORD STREET, STRAND 


1896 





Copyright, 1896 
BY 

G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS 
Entered at Stationers’ Hall, London 



Ube lltnicberbocber ipress, "ftcw IRocbellc, IWew JtJork 


THE BOY READERS 


OF 

ENGLAND AND AMERICA 

THIS BOOK HAS BEEN WRITTEN, AND TO THEM IT IS 

BeDicatcD 

THAT IT MAY INTEREST THEM 
SO AS TO RIVAL IN THEIR AFFECTIONS THE TOP, THE BALL 

AND THE KITE 

THAT IT MAY IMPRESS THEM 

SO AS TO CREATE A TASTE FOR THAT MOST REFINING STUDY 

THE STUDY OF NATURE 

THAT IT MAY BENEFIT THEM 
BY BEGETTING A FONDNESS FOR BOOKS — THE ANTIDOTES 
OF IGNORANCE, OF IDLENESS, AND VICE 
HAS BEEN THE DESIGN, AS IT IS THE SINCERE WISH, OF 

THEIR FRIEND 


THE AUTHOR 



PUBI^ISHKRS’ NOTH. 


M AYNE REID was born in Ireland in i8i8. 

He early developed a great interest in travel 
and adventure, and when twenty years of age he 
crossed the ocean to America. Shortly after his ar- 
rival, an opportunity offered to join an expedition 
bound for the Red River country and Reid quickly 
availed himself of this and thus gained his first expe- 
rience of the western wilds in which, later on, he spent 
so much of his time. 

In 1845, the breaking out of the Mexican War, he 
enlisted as a private in the United States army, and for 
distinguished service he received a commission as Cap- 
tain at Vera Cruz. His new rank doubtless increased 
his zeal for active and dangerous duty, for we next hear 
of him as leading a forlorn hope on the battlefield of 
Chapultepec. 

It was not until the close of this war that Reid began 
his career as a writer of fiction, and in 1849, The Rifle 
Rangers^ his first book, was published, followed shortly 
after by The Scalp Hmiters^ and other tales. From 


pubUsbers' IRote 


1849 to 1873, the date of his death, there were issued 
no less than fifty-nine novels from his pen, making 
nearly two volumes per year. 

Many of these stories failed to receive any special 
public appreciation, and the majority of them, although 
at the time of their publication meeting with some sale 
and popularity, have long since been forgotten. 

And it must be confessed that no special regret need 
be felt at the short life of most of these tales, for their 
character was not such as to entitle them to a lengthy 
existence. Wildly adventurous and with the most 
sanguinary plots of border warfare, their many absurd- 
ities were only made the more prominent by the extra- 
ordinary love stories which ran through their pages. 

It is indeed somewhat surprising that the same mind 
which produced such trash as The Fatal Cord, The 
Rifle Rangers, The Golden Chief, The Finger of Fate, 
and The Quee 7 i of the Lakes, could also bring forth 
such an admirable series of boys’ books as The Boy 
Hunters, The Young Voyagers, The Bush Boys, and 
The Plant Hunters, all of which cannot fail to prove 
of fascinating interest to boys of healthy tastes. 

These stories are but little known to the young of 
the present generation, and in the belief that in these 
times of endless tales of adventure the better books of 
Mayne Reid should find an honoured place, the publish- 
ers of the present volume have ventured to present this 
Nimrod Kdition of the boys’ books of Mayne Reid, 


VI 


pubUsbers' IRote 


^h.e normal boy craves reading matter with vigorous 
action and adventure, and no evil results from supply- 
ing, in moderation, this demand with stories of wild 
life provided the tone of these tales is honest and 
manly. What Reid has accomplished in the volumes 
mentioned above is to furnish his readers with adven- 
tures which are always such as to assure a boy’s deep 
interest while the action of the stories is invariably 
healthy and vigorous. While the intention of these 
volumes is primarily to furnish amusement for a lad 
they do much more than this, for they inculcate in the 
mind of the boy who reads them carefully a manliness 
of thought, an honesty of purpose, and, above all, the 
habits of close observation and self-reliance which are 
of so great importance in the formation of the char- 
acter of the American boy. 

It is because of these qualities which are felt to exist 
in Captain Mayne Reid’s stories — qualities which un- 
fortunately are often so lamentably absent in the host 
of trash that is at present provided for boys’ reading, 
that it has been thought well to emphasise the value 
of these tales by presenting the Nimrod Edition of his 
works. 


vu 



PRKI^ACE. 


T his book has been written for boys. In the en- 
deavour to interest the juvenile intellect, it is 
necessary to deal with physical rather than moral facts. 
The author is therefore debarred the use of that intel- 
lectual imagery, that might prove his pretensions to 
literary excellence. To the latter no claim is laid, in 
the present instance. Show and style have been sacri- 
ficed upon the altar of simplicity — at least, such has 
been the aim. 

While undertaking no responsibility for the truth 
of his story, the author of The Boy Hunter claims 
consideration for the truthfulness of the materials out 
of which it is constructed — what, for want of a better 
expression, he may be permitted to call the mise en 
scene of his little drama. He makes bold to endorse 
the genuineness of its scenery and its natural facts. 
He is not conscious of having taken any liberty, for 
the sake of effect, with the laws of nature — with its 
fauna, or its flora. Neither plant nor tree, bird nor 
mammal, has been pressed into service, beyond the 
limits of its geographical range ; although, in illus- 


IX 


preface 


trating the habits or history of God’s wild creatures, 
he has often selected only their more peculiar charac- 
teristics. 

Whether or not the structure ma}^ please the critic, 
it is hoped that he will acknowledge the goodness of 
the materials. But the temple may not be admired, 
though built of the purest marble. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. THK HOMK OF th ]5 hunter-naturalist . I 

II. THE hunter-naturalist and his 

FAMILY 6 

III. THE prince’s letter .... 13 

IV. GOING ON A GREAT HUNT ... 20 

V. THE CAMP OF THE BOY HUNTERS . . 29 

VI. A FOX-SQUIRREL IN A FIX • • • 37 

VII. FRANQOIS GETS AN UGLY FALL . . 45 

VIII. ABOUT ALLIGATORS 54 

IX. THE INDIAN MOTHER AND CAIMAN . 72 

X. THE FOOD OF THE SILKWORM . . 8 1 

XI. THE CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION ... 93 

XII. THE WHITE-HEADED EAGLE . . .121 

XIII. three buffaloes with wings . .129 

XIV. A WILD-TURKEY HUNT . . . -139 

XV. TRAILING WITH A BLOOD-HOUND . .153 

XVI. JEANNETTE and THE JAVALIES . .163 

XVII. A CUNNING CAT AND A SLY OLD ’ POSSUM . 1 69 

XVIII. AN ODD ADVENTURE BEFORE BREAKFAST 1 83 

XIX. JERKING A bear 1 95 

XX. A NOCTURNAL ADVENTURE . . . 205 




XI 


Coiiteitts 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXI. THE CIRCLE OP FIRE . . . . 21 '] 

XXII. THE LONE MOUND . . . . 226 

XXIII. THE HUNT OF THE WILD HORSE . . 236 

XXIV. A DOG TOWN 25 1 

XXV. A NIGHT IN THE DESERT . . . 262 

XXVI. THE PRONG-HORNS .... 268 

XXVII. DECOYING AN ANTELOPE . . . 282 

XXVIII. SCATTERING THE CIMMARONS . . 287 

XXIX. BESIEGED BY GRIZZLY BEARS . . 302 

XXX. AN ESCAPE FROM THE BEAR SCRAPE . 314 

XXXI. TPiE vultures and their king . . 323 

XXXII. MORE TALK ABOUT THE VULTURES . 345 

XXXIII. SUPPING UPON A SKELETON . . . 360 

XXXIV. THE battle of THE BULLS . . . 373 

XXXV. THE mysterious WALLET . . . 385 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 


Outwitting thk Bkar .... 

Frontispiece 

Camp of thf Boy Huntfrs . 

• 30 

Thk End op thk Fight .... 

• 52 

A Link in thk Chain of Dkstruction 

. 94 

Whkrk Francois was Found . 

160 

Thk Circkk of Firk .... 

. 220 

Dkcoying an Antkkopk .... 

. 284 

Thk Whitk Buffako .... 

• 378 










THE BOY HUNTERS 


CHAPTE^R I. 

THK hom:^ of thf huntfr-naturai,ist. 

O with me to the great river Mississippi. It is 



V_jX the longest river in the world. A line that 
would measure it would just reach to the centre of the 
earth, — in other words, it is four thousand miles in 
length. Go with me to this majestic river. 

I do not wish you to travel to its source ; only as 
far up as Point Coupee, about three hundred miles from 
its mouth. There we shall stop for a while — a very 
short while — for we have a long journey to make. Our 
route lies to the far west — over the great prairies of 
Texas ; and from Point Coupee we shall take our de- 
parture. 

There is a village at Point Couple — a quaint, old. 
French-looking village, built of wood. In point of 
fact it is a French village ; for it was one of the earli- 
est settlements of that people, who, with the Span- 
iards, were the first colonists of Western America. 


I 


XTbe Ibunters 


Hence we find, to this day, French and Spanish peo- 
ple, with French and Spanish names and customs, all 
through the Mississippi valley and the regions that lie 
west of it. 

We have not much to do with these things at pres- 
ent, and very little to say of Point Coupee, more than 
we have already said. Our subject is an odd-looking 
house that, many years ago, stood on the western bank 
of the river, about a mile below the village. I say it 
stood there many years ago ; but it is very likely that 
it is still standing, as it was a firm, well-built house 
of hewn logs, carefully chinked, and plastered between 
the chinks with run-lime. It was roofed with cedar 
shingles that projected at the eaves, so as to cast off 
the rain, and keep the walls dry. It was what in that 
country is called a “ double house, ” — that is, a large 
passage ran across the middle of it, through which 
you might have driven a wagon loaded with hay. 
This passage was roofed and ceiled like the r?st of the 
house, and floored with strong planks. The flooring, 
elevated a foot above the surface of the ground, pro- 
jected several feet in front of the passage, where carved 
uprights of cedar- wood supported a light roof, forming 
a porch or verandah. Around these uprights, and 
upon the railing that shut in the verandah, clung 
vines, rose-bushes, and convolvulus plants, that at 
certain seasons of the year were clustered over with 
beautiful flowers. 


2 


XTbe 1F3unter***IFlaturaltst 


The house faced the river, standing, as I have said, 
on its western bank — on the same side with Point 
Coupee. In front was a lawn, some two hundred 
5’ards in length, that stretched toward the river, and 
ended on the low bluff forming its bank. This lawn 
was enclosed by high rail-fences, and variegated with 
clumps of shrubbery and ornamental trees. Most of 
them were indigenous to the country ; but there were 
exotics as well. Among the trees you could not fail 
to notice the large-flowered magnolia {Magnolia gran- 
diflora), the red mulberry (Morns rubra), the pale 
green leaves of the catalpa, the tall tulip-tree (lirio- 
dendron), and the shining foliage of the orange. 

In contrast with the brighter frondage of these were 
dark cone-shaped cedars and spire-like forms of the 
yew. There were date-trees and weeping willows 
growing upon the river bank, and drooping gracefully 
over its current. Other plants and trees might be dis- 
tinguished — the natives of a southern clime — such as 
the great Mexican aloe (Agave Americana), the bay- 
onet blades of the yucca, and the fan-like leaves of 
the palmetto. Beautiful birds of many varieties might 
be seen among the copses, or moving over the grassy 
sward of the lawn. 

In the great hall or passage, already ' mentioned, a 
singular picture presented itself. Along the walls, on 
both sides, were suspended various implements of the 
chase, such as rifles, shot guns, pouches, flasks, hunt- 
3 


XTbe IF^uuters 


ing-knives, and, in short, every species of trap, net, or 
implement, that could be devised for capturing the 
wild denizens of the earth, air, and water. Homs of 
the stag and elk were fastened to the hewn logs ; and 
upon their branching antlers hung hair-bridles and 
high-peaked saddles of the Mexican or Spanish fash- 
ion. In addition to these were skins of rare birds and 
quadrupeds,- artistically preserved by stuffing, and 
placed on pedestals around the wooden walls. There 
were glass cases, too, containing moths, butterflies, 
and other insects, impaled upon pins, and arranged 
in systematic order. In short, this hall resembled a 
little museum. 

Were we to enter and examine the inside of the 
house, we should find three or four good-sized rooms, 
comfortably furnished, and all stocked with subjects 
of natural history and implements of the chase. In 
one of the rooms we should see a barometer and ther- 
mometer hanging against the wall, an old clock over 
the mantel-piece, a sabre and pistols, and a book-case 
containing many choice and valuable books. 

To the rear of the house we should find a small 
kitchen buik of logs, and containing the usual culi- 
nary utensils. Still farther back we should meet an 
enclosed yard, having a storehouse and stable at one 
end. In the stables we should find four horses, and 
several mules might be observed in the enclosure. A 
large reddish dog with long ears, and having the ap- 
4 


tlbe 1F)unters=1Raturali6t 


pearance of a hound, might be seen straying about the 
yard, and would not fail to attract our attention. 

An observer, viewing this house from a distance, 
would take it for the residence of a wealthy planter ; 
on a nearer inspection, however, it would not pass for 
that. There were no rows of negro cabins, no great 
sugar-mills, nor tobacco- warehouses, such as are al- 
ways to be seen near the planter’s dwelling. Nothing 
of the sort ; nor was there any very large tract of culti- 
vated land contiguous to the house. The dark cypress 
forest in the background cast its shadow almost up to 
the walls. Plainly it was not the dwelling of a planter. 
What then was it, and who were its inmates ? It was 
the home of a Huni^r- Naturalist. 


5 


CHAPTER II. 

raK huntkr-naturaIvIST and kis family. 

I N 1815 was fought the famous battle of Waterloo, 
and in the same year Napoleon Bonaparte was 
exiled to the island-rock of St. Helena. Many French 
officers, who had followed the fortunes of the great 
adventurer, at that time emigrated to America. Most 
of these, as was very natural, sought the French settle- 
ments on the Mississippi, and there made their homes 
for life. Among them was one named Eandi, who had 
been a colonel of chasseurs in Napoleon’s army. He 
was by birth a Corsican ; and it was through his being 
a friend and early acquaintance of one of the Bonaparte 
family that he had been induced to become an officer 
in the French army — for in his youth he had been 
fonder of science than soldiering. 

While campaigning in Spain, Eandi had married a 
Basque lady, by whom he had three children, all sons. 
Their mother died before the battle of Waterloo was 
fought ; so that when Eandi emigrated to America his 
family consisted of his three sons alone. 

He first went to St. Louis, but after a while moved 


6 


Ube Ibunter^^lRaturalist anb Ibis ffamil^ 


down the river to Point Coupee, in lyouisiana, where 
he purchased the house we have just described, and 
made it his home. 

I^et me tell you that he was not in any circumstances 
of necessity. Previous to his departure for America, 
he had sold his patrimonial estates in Corsica for a sum 
of money — enough to have enabled him to live without 
labour in any country, but particularly in that free land 
of cheap food and light taxation — the land of his adop- 
tion. He was, therefore, under no necessity of follow- 
ing any trade or profession in his new home — and he 
followed none. How then did he employ his time ? I 
will tell you. He was an educated man. Previous to 
his entering the French army he had studied the natu- 
ral sciences. He was a naturalist. A naturalist can 
find employment anywhere — can gather both instruc- 
tion and amusement where others would die of ennui 
and idleness. Remember! there are “sermons in 
stones, and books in running brooks. ’ ’ He was not a 
closet naturalist either. Rike the great Audubon he 
was fond of the outside world. He was fond of draw- 
ing his lessons from Nature herself. He combined a 
passion for the chase with his more delicate taste for 
scientific pursuits ; and where could he have better 
placed himself to indulge in these than in the great 
region of the Mississippi valley, teeming with objects 
of interest both to the hunter and the naturalist ? In 
my opinion, he made good choice of his home. 


XTbe Ibunters 


Well, between hunting, and fishing, and stuffing his 
birds, and preserving the skins of rare quadrupeds, and 
planting and pruning his trees, and teaching his boys, 
and training his dogs and horses, Landi was far from 
being idle. His boys, of course, assisted him in these 
occupations, as far as they were able. But he had an- 
other assistant — Hugot. 

Who was Hugot ? I shall describe Hugot for your 
benefit. 

Hugot was a Frenchman — a very small Frenchman, 
indeed — not over five feet four inches in height. He 
was dapper and tidy — had a large aquiline nose, and, 
notwithstanding his limited stature, a pair of tremen- 
dous moustachios, that curved over his mouth so as 
almost to hide it. These gave him ’ a somewhat fierce 
aspect, which, combined with his upright carriage, and 
brisk mechanical-like movements, told you at once 
what Hugot had been — a French soldier. He was, in 
fact, a ci-devant corporal of chasseurs. Tandi had been 
his colonel. The rest you will easily guess. He had 
followed his old leader to America, and was now his 
man for everything. It was not often that you could 
see the naturalist without also seeing Hugot’ s great 
moustachios close by his elbow. It would have killed 
Hugot to have been separated for any length of time 
from his old colonel. 

Of course Hugot accompanied his master in all his 
hunting expeditions. So, too, did the boys, as soon as 


XTbe Ibunter^^lRaturaUst anb IfDis 


they were able to sit upon a horse. On these occasions 
the house would be shut up, for there was no house- 
keeper nor any other domestic about the establishment. 
It would remain thus for days, sometimes for weeks 
together — for the naturalist with his party often made 
distant excursions into the surrounding forests. They 
would return laden with spoils — skins of birds and 
beasts, plants, and rare geological specimens. Then 
whole days would be spent in the arrangement of these 
new acquisitions. Thus did Tandi and his family pass 
their time. 

Hugot was cook, v^let, groom, butler, and errand boy. 
I have already stated that no other domestic, male or 
female, lived in the house : Hugot, therefore, was cham- 
ber-maid as well. His manifold occupations, however, 
were not so difficult to fulfil as might at first appear. 
The Colonel was a man of simple habits. He had 
learned these when a soldier, and he brought up his 
sons to live like himself. He ate plain food, drank 
only water, and slept upon a camp-bed with a buffalo- 
robe and a blanket. A laundress in Point Coupee 
kept the linen clean ; and Hugot was not near so busy 
with house affairs as you might suppose. He made 
daily journeys to the village — to the market, and the 
post-office, from which he often brought letters, many 
of them with large seals, and the arms of a prince upon 
them ! Sometimes, too, after a steamer had called at 
the landing, parcels arrived containing books — scien- 
. 9 


XTbe UDunters 


tific books they were — or curious instruments. Not- 
withstanding all this, there was nothing mysterious 
about the life of the hunter-naturalist. He was no 
misanthrope. He often visited the village, and would 
gossip with old hunters and others who lived there. 
The villagers knew him as the “ old Colonel,” and re- 
spected him. They only wondered at his tastes as a 
naturalist, which to them seemed strange. They 
wondered, too, how he managed to keep house without 
a maid-servant. But the Colonel did not trouble his 
head about their conjectures. He only laughed at 
their curious inquiries, and remained on as good terms 
as ever. His boys, too, as they grew iip became great 
favourites with all. They were the best shots of their 
age, could ride a horse with any, could swim the 
Mississippi, paddle a canoe, fling a lasso, or spear a 
catfish, as though they had been full-grown men. 
They were, in fact, boy -men ; and as such were re- 
garded by the simple villagers, who instinctively felt 
the superiority which education and training had given 
to these youths over their own uneducated minds. 
The boys, notwithstanding these advantages, were 
affable with the villagers ; hence the respect in which 
they were universally held. 

None of his neighbours ever visited the Colonel, ex- 
cept on matters of business. Indeed he had no visitors 
of any sort, if we except one or two of his former mili- 
tary associates, who lived at New Orleans, and came 


Ubc 1bunter=1FlaturaU6t anb Ibis ^Farnil^ 


up to his house about once a year to talk over old 
times, and taste his venison. On such occasions 
“ Napoleon le Grand ” was of course the main subject 
of conversation. I^ike all old soldiers of the Empire, 
Eandi worshipped Napoleon ; but there was one of the 
Bonaparte family for whom the naturalist entertained 
a still higher feeling of regard, amounting in fact to 
sincere friendship. This was Charles Eucien, prince 
of Musignano. 

Not all the Bonapartes have been bad. Some of the 
members of that remarkable family have given evi- 
dence to the world that they were the possessors of 
noble virtue. The quiet researches of the Prince of 
Musignano. as a student of natural history may be 
looked upon as so many conquests in the kingdom of 
Nature ; and though they have been eclipsed by the 
more brilliant and sanguinary triumphs of the Em- 
peror, yet do they far more entitle him to the grati- 
tude and respect of men. He was the true hero of the 
hunter-naturalist Eandi. 

For many years did Colonel Eandi lead the life we 
have described. An event at length happened that 
was near proving fatal to him. He had been wounded 
in the leg during his campaigns in the Peninsula. A 
fall from his horse reopened this wound, and amputa- 
tion became necessary. This saved his life, but he 
could no longer partake of the amusements of the 
chase, although still able to indulge in the more deli- 


II 


Ubc :Bop 1F3unter0 


cate pursuits of the naturalist. With his wooden leg 
he was able to hobble about the house and lawn, prune 
the trees, and attend to his pets that had grown to be 
quite numerous, while Hugot at all times followed him 
about like his shadow. The boys, however, went 
abroad on hunting expeditions, and collected speci- 
mens as formerly ; and the life of all went on pretty 
much as Usual. 

Thus it was when I first became acquainted with 
the naturalist, his man Hugot, and his three sons — 
the Boy Hunters, the heroes of our little book. * 

Young reader, permit me to introduce you to a more 
intimate acquaintance with them. T fancy you will 
like them — all three — and be happy for some time in 
their society. 


12 


CHAPTER III. 


PRINCE’S I.E)TTKR. 

I T is a lovely morning in Spring as we approach 
their dwelling. We enter the lawn by a side- 
gate. We need not go into the house, for there is no 
one within doors. The weather is too fine for that, 
but they are all at home notwithstanding. They are 
on the lawn in front, and the verandah. 

They are differently occupied. The Colonel him- 
self is engaged feeding his pets. Hugot is helping 
him, and carries the basket containing their food. . 

You would call the Colonel a fine-looking man. 
His hair is as white as bleached flax. So, too, are 
his moustachios. He wears no beard. His face is 
cleanly shaved, showing a complexion bronzed and 
somewhat ruddy. The expression of his countenance 
is mild, though firm. He is much thinner than he 
has been in his time, on account of the amputation of 
his leg, which often produces this effect. His dress 
is simple. A jacket of yellow nankeen, a striped cot- 
ton shirt, with loose cottonade trousers of bright sky 
colour. A Panama hat, with very broad brim, shades 


13 


Zbc JBop IFDunters 


his eyes from the sun, and his shirt is open at the 
throat, for the day is warm. Thus is the Colonel at- 
tired. Hugot is dressed after a somewhat similar 
fashion ; but the material of his jacket and trousers 
is coarser, and his hat is of the common palmetto 
leaf. 

Took at Basil, the oldest of the boys. He is at 
work fixing some straps to a hunting-saddle, that lies 
on the grass beside him. Basil is exactly seventeen 
years of age. He is a fine-looking lad, though not 
what you might call handsome. His face has a coura- 
geous expression, and his form betokens strength. 
His hair is straight, and black as jet. He is more 
like an Italian than either of his brothers. He is, in 
fact, the son of his father — a true Corsican. Basil is 
a “mighty hunter.” He is more fond of the chase 
than of aught else. He loves hunting for itself, and 
delights in its dangers. He has got beyond the age 
of bird-catching and squirrel-shooting. His ambition 
is not now to be satisfied with anything less exciting 
than a panther, bear, or buffalo hunt. 

How very unlike him is Tucien, the second in age ! 
Unlike in almost everything. Tucien is delicately 
formed, with a light complexion and very fair hair. 
He is more like what his mother was, for she was fair- 
haired and blondey as are many of her people — the 
Basques. Tucien is passionately fond of books and 
study. He is busy with a book just now in the veran- 


14 


Ube prince’s Xetter 


dah. He is a student of natural history in general, 
but botany and geology are his favourite sciences, and 
he has made considerable progress in both. He ac- 
companies Basil on all hunting expeditions ; but, in 
the midst of the most exciting chase, I^ucien would 
leap down from his horse if a rare plant or flower, or 
an odd-looking rock, was to fall under his eye. I^u- 
cien talks but little — not half so much as most boys — 
but although habitually silent he possesses a rare good 
sense ; and when he offers his advice upon any ques- 
tion, it is usually received with respect by the others. 
Such is the secret influence of intellect and education. 

Next and last, we have Frangois, a quick-witted, 
curly-haired urchin — merry to madness — cheerful at 
all times — changeable in his tastes and likings — ver- 
satile in talents — in short, more of a Frenchman than 
any of them. Frangois is a great bird-catcher. He is 
at this moment engaged in repairing his nets ; and his 
double-barrel shot gun, which he has just finished 
cleaning, rests beside him. Frangois is a favourite 
with everybody, but a great pest to Hugot, upon 
whom he plays numerous tricks. 

^ ^ 

While the naturalist and his family were thus en- 
gaged, a loud booming noise was heard at some dis- 
tance off, down the river. It somewhat resembled the 
regular firing of great guns, though the explosion 
sounded softer and more hollow. 

% 


15 


trbe JSo^ Ibunters 


“A steamboat!” cried Francois, whose ear first 
caught the sounds. 

‘ ‘ Yes, ’ ’ muttered Basil, ‘ ‘ from New Orleans, I ex- 
pect, and bound to St. Fouis.” 

“ No, brother,” said Fucien, quietly raising himself 
from his book. ‘ ‘ She is an Ohio boat. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ How can you tell that, Fuce ? ’ ’ inquired Fran- 
cois. 

“From the sound of her ’scape, of course. I can 
distinguish the boat. She is the Buck-eye — mail- 
boat for Cincinnati. ’ ’ 

In a short time the white cloud of steam was seen 
ascending over the trees ; and then the huge vessel 
came ‘ ‘ bulging ’ ’ around a bend of the river, cleaving 
the brown current as she went. She was soon opposite 
the lawn ; and, sure enough, proved to be what Fucien 
had said she was — the mail-steamer Buck-eye. This 
was a triumph for Fucien, although he bore it with 
characteristic modesty. 

The boat had not passed many minutes, when the 
loud screeching of her steam was heard in the direction 
of Point Couple. They could tell from this that she 
was putting in at the landing. 

“ Hugot ! ” cried the Colonel, “ there may be some- 
thing for us. Go and see.” 

Without waiting for further orders, Hugot started 
on his errand. He was a brisk walker, Hugot ; and 


Ube prince's better 


was back again in a trice. He brought with him a 
letter of goodly size and appearance. 

“From Prince lyucien ! “ cried Francois, who was 
sure to have the first word in everything. “ It is from 
the Prince, papa ; I know the seal. ’ ’ 

“Quiet, Francois! quiet!” said his father, reprov- 
ingly ; at the same time hobbling into the verandah, 
and calling for his spectacles. 

The letter was soon opened, and perused. 

“ Hugot 1 ” cried the Colonel, after he had finished 
reading it. 

Hugot made no reply, but threw himself in front of 
his master, with his hands raised to his eyebrows ^ la 
miliiaire. 

“ Hugot, you must go to St. Fouis.” 

Bien^ mon Colonel ! ” 

“ You rnust start by the first boat.” 

“ Tres-bien, mon Colonel 1" 

“You must procure for me the skin of a white 
buffalo B 

“ That will not be difiicult, monsieur.” 

“ More difficult than you imagine, I fear.” 

“ With money, monsieur? ” 

“ Aye, even with money, Hugot. Took you I It 
is a skin I want — not a robe — but a perfect skin with 
the head, feet, and all complete, and fit for stuffing.” 

“Ah I mon Colonel ! that is different.” 


17 


Zbc IF^untera 


‘ ‘ Ah ! you may say so. I fear it will be difficult, 
indeed,” soliloquised the Colonel, with a thoughtful 
air. “ I very much doubt whether we can get it at 
all ; but it must be had, cosi what it may — aye, cost what 
it may'^ 

“ I will do my bOvSt, Colonel.” 

“ Try at every fur-store in St. Touis — inquire among 
the hunters and trappers — you know where to find 
them. If these fail you, put an advertisement in the 
newspapers — advertise both in English and French. 
Go to M. Choteau — anywhere. Spare no expense, but 
get me the skin.” 

“ Restez tranquille^ mo7i Colonel ; I shall do all that.” 

” Make ready, then, to start. There may be a 
steamer going up before night. Hush ! I hear one 
this very moment. It may be a St. Louis boat.” 

All stood for a moment silent and listening. The 
’scape of another boat coming up the river could be 
heard plain enough. 

” It is a St. Louis boat,” said Lucien. “It is the 
Belle of the WestB 

Lucien, who had a quick talent in that way, could 
tell, by the sound of their steam-pipe, almost every 
boat that plied upon the Mississippi. In half-an-hour 
the steamer hove in sight, and it was seen that he had 
again guessed correctly. It was a St. Louis boat, and 
the Belle of the West, too ! 

Hugot had not many preparations to make ; and 

i8 


Zbc ipvmce's ^Letter 


before the boat had arrived opposite to the house, he 
had arranged everything — received some further in- 
structions, with a purse of money, from his master — 
and was off to Point Coupee, to meet the steamer at 
the landing. 


CHAPTER IV. 


GOING ON A GREAT HUNT. 

I T was full three weeks before Hugot returned. 

They were a long three weeks to the old Colonel, 

— who was troubled with apprehensions that Hugot 
would not succeed in his errand. He had written in 
reply to the letter of Prince Bonaparte. He had writ- 
ten promising to procure — if possible — a white buffalo . 
skin— for this was what the Prince’s letter was about; 

— and not for half what he was worth would the Colo- 
nel have failed to accomplish this object. No wonder, 
then, he was impatient and uneasy during Hugot’ s 
absence. 

Hugot returned at length, after night. The Colonel 
did not wait until he entered the house, but met him 
at the door, candle in hand. He need not have put 
any question, as Hugot’ s face answered that question 
before it was asked. The moment the light fell upon 
it, any one could have told that Hugot had come back 
without the skin. He looked quite crest-fallen ; and his 
great moustachios appeared bleached and drooping. 

“You have not got it?’’ interrogated the Colonel, 
in a faltering voice. 


20 


(Boing on a (Breat t>unt 


“ No, Colonel,” muttered Hugot, in reply. 

“You tried everywhere ? ” 

“ [Everywhere.” 

“You advertised in the papers ? ” 

‘ ‘ In all the papers, monsieur. ’ ’ 

“You offered a high price ? ” 

‘ ‘ I did. It was to no purpose. I could not have 
procured a white buffalo’s skin if I had offered ten 
times as much. I could not have got it for a thousand 
dollars. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I would give five thousand ! ’ ’ 

“ It would have been all the same, monsieur. It is 
not to be had in St. Eouis. ’ ’ 

“ What says M. Choteau ? ” 

“ That there is but little chance of finding what you 
want. A man, he says, may travel all over the prairies 
without meeting with a white buffalo. The Indians 
prize them beyond anything, and never let one escape 
when they chance to fall in with it. I found two or 
three among the fur packs of the traders ; but they 
were not what you desire, monsieur. They were robes ; 
and even for them a large sum was asked. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ They would be of no use. It is wanted for a differ- 
ent purpose — for 2l great museum. Ah ! I fear I can not 
obtain it. If not to be had in St. Touis, where else ? ” 
“Where else, papa?” interrupted Francois, who, 
with his brothers, had stood listening to the above 
dialogue. “ Where else, but on the prairies t ” 


21 


trbe 1bunter6 


‘ ‘ On the prairies ! ’ ’ mechanically echoed his father. 

“Yes, papa. Send Basil, and lyucien, and myself. 
We ’ll find you a white buffalo, I warrant you.” 

“ Hurrah, Francois ! ” cried Basil ; “ you ’re right, 
brother. I was going to propose the same myself.” 

“ No, no, my lads ; you ’ve heard what M. Choteau 
says. You need not think of such a thing. It cannot 
be had. And I have written to the Prince, too. I 
have as good as promised him ! ” 

• As the old Colonel uttered these words, his coun- 
tenance and gestures expressed disappointment and 
chagrin. 

lyucien, who had observed this with a feeling of 
pain, now interposed. 

“Papa,” he said, “it is true that M. Choteau has 
great experience in the fur-trade ; but the facts do not 
correspond with what he has stated” — (Fucien, you 
will observe, wsls a keen reasoner) . ‘ ‘ Hugot has seen 

two or three of these skins in St. Fouis. Some one 
must have found the animals to which these belonged. 
Moreover, I have heard, as M. Choteau asserts, that 
they are highly prized by the Indian chiefs, who wear 
them as robes ; and that they are often seen among 
the tribes. This, then, proves that there are white 
buffaloes upon the prairies ; and why should we not 
happen upon them as well as others ? I say with 
Francois and Basil, let us go in search of them.” 

“ Come in, my lads ; come in ! ” said their father, 


22 


OoiwQ on a (Breat IFDunt 


evidently pleased, and to some extent comforted, with 
the proposal of his hoj^s. ‘ ‘ Come into the house — 
we can talk over it better when we have had our 
suppers. ’ ’ 

And so saying, the old Colonel hobbled back into 
the house followed by his three boys ; while Hugot, 
looking very jaded and feeling very hungry, brought 
up the rear. 

During the supper, and after it, the subject was dis- 
cussed in all its bearings. The father was more than 
half inclined to consent to the proposal of his sons 
from the first ; while they, but particularly Basil and 
Fran9ois, were enthusiastic in proving its practicabil- 
ity. I need hardly tell 570U the result. The Colonel 
at length gave his consent — the expedition was agreed 
upon. 

The naturalist was greatly influenced by the desire 
he felt to gratify his friend the Prince. He was influ- 
enced, too, by another feeling. He felt secretly pleased 
at the bold and enterprising character thus exhibited 
in his children, and he was not the man to throw cold 
water upon any enterprise they might design. Indeed, 
he often boasted to his neighbours and friends how he 
had trained them up to be men, calling them his “ boy- 
men,” and his '' jeunes chasseurs.'" And truly had he 
trained them to a complete self-reliance, as far as lay 
in his power. He had taught them to ride, to swim, 
to dive deep rivers, to fling the lasso, to climb tall 
23 * 


Ubc Ibunters 


trees, and scale steep cliffs, to bring down birds upon 
the wing, or beasts upon the run, with the arrow and 
the unerring rifle. He had trained them to sleep in 
the open air — in the dark forest — on the unsheltered 
prairie — along the white snow-wreath — anywhere — 
with but a blanket or a buffalo robe for their beds. He 
had taught them to live upon the simplest food ; and 
the knowledge of practical botany which he had im- 
parted to them — more particularly to lyucien — would 
enable them, in case of need, to draw sustenance from 
plants and trees, from roots and fruits — to find resources 
where ignorant men might starve. They knew how 
to kindle a fire without either flint, steel, or detonating 
powder. They could discover their direction without 
a compass — from the rocks, and the trees, and the 
signs of the heavens ; and, in addition to all, they had 
been taught, as far as was then known, the geography 
of that vast wilderness that stretched from their own 
home to the far shores of the Pacific Ocean. 

The Colonel knew that he might safely trust them 
upon the prairies ; and, in truth, it was with a feeling 
of pride, rather than anxiety, that he consented to the 
expedition. But there was still another motive that 
influenced him — perhaps the most powerful of all. 
He was inspired by the pride of the naturalist. He 
thought of the triumph he would obtain by sending 
such a rare contribution to the great museum of 
Europe. If ever, my young reader, you should be- 


24 


(Boino on a (Breat ITDunt 


come a naturalist, you will comprehend how strong 
this feeling may be ; and with our hunter-naturalist it 
was so. 

At first he proposed that Hugot should accompany 
them. This the boys would not hear of, and all three 
stoutly opposed it. They could not think of taking 
Hugot — their father would require Hugot at home — 
Hugot would be of no use to them, they said. They 
would do as well, if not better, without him. 

The truth was, that these ambitious young hunters 
did not wish to be robbed of any part of the credit of 
their enterprise — which they knew would be the case 
if Hugot were to accompany them. Not that Hugot 
was by any means a noted hunter — quite the contrary 
— nor a warrior neither, notwithstanding he had been 
a chasseur a cheval and wore such fierce moustachios. 
All this his old Colonel knew very well ; and therefore 
did not much insist upon sending Hugot with them. 

Hugot’ s talents shone best in another sphere of ac- 
tion — in the cuisine. There Hugot was at home, for 
he could compound an omelette, fricassee a chicken, or 
dress a ca7iard aux olives, with Monsieur Soyer himself. 
But Hugot — although for many years he had accom- 
panied his old and young masters in the chase — had no 
taste whatever for hunting. He had a wholesome 
dread of bears and panthers, and as to Indians . . . 

Ha ! Indians ! 

Now you will wonder, my young friends, when you 
25 


Zbc Ibunters 


come to think of these Indians — when 3^ou come to 
consider that fift}^' warlike nations of them live and 
roam over the prairies — man^^ of them sworn foes to 
white men, killing the latter wherever they may meet 
them, as you would a mad dog or a poisonous spider, 
— I say, when you consider these things, you will 
wonder that this old French or Corsican father should 
consent to let his sons go upon so dangerous an expe- 
dition. It seems unnatural, does it not ? In fact, quite 
improbable, when we dome to reflect that the Colonel 
dearly loved his three vSons, almost as dearly as his own 
life. And yet one would say, he could hardly have 
found a readier plan to get rid of them, than thus to 
send them forth among savages. Upon what, then, 
did he rely for their safety ? On their age? No. He 
knew the Indians better than that. He knew very 
w^ell that their age would not be cared for, should they 
chance to fall in with any of the tribes hostile to the 
whites. It is true, that the savages might not scalp 
them on this account — being boys, — but they would be 
very certain to carry them into a captivity from which 
they might never return. Or did their father antici- 
pate that the excursion should extend no farther than 
the country of ^ome friendly tribe ? He entertained no 
such idea. Had this been their plan, their errand 
would have been likely to prove fruitless. In a coun- 
try of that sort they would have seen but little of the 
buffalo ; for it is well known that the buffaloes are only 

26 


(Boing on a (5reat 1bunt 


found in plenty upon those parts of the prairies termed 
“ war grounds ” — that is, where several tribes go to 
hunt, who are at war with each other. In fact, that 
is the reason why these animals are more numerous 
there than elsewhere, as the hunters are fewer, on ac- 
count of the danger they incur of coming into collision 
with each other. In a territory which is exclusively 
in possession of any particular tribe, the buffaloes are 
soon killed or run off by incessant hunting. It is a 
fact, therefore, well known among prairie hunters, that 
w'herever buffaloes are plenty there is plenty of danger 
as well, though the converse of this is not always true. 
On the neutral or “war grounds “ of the Indians, you 
may meet with a friendly tribe one day, and on the 
next, or even within the next hour, you may fall in 
with a band of savages who will scalp you on sight. 

Now, the father of our three boy hunters knew all 
this, as well as I know it. How then are we to ac- 
count for his apparently unnatural conduct, in permit- 
ting them to risk their lives in such an enterprise ? It 
would be quite unaccountable indeed, were it not that 
there was a mystery connected with it, which I shall 
explain to you hereafter. All I can tell you now is, 
that when the three were mounted and about to start, 
the Colonel hobbled up ; and, drawing from his pocket 
a small leathern bag or case ornamented with stained 
porcupine quills, he handed it to Basil, saying as he 
did so : “ Take good care of Basil— you know its use 




27 


Zbc IFDunters 


— never let it part from you — your lives may depend upon 
it. God be with you, my brave boys. Adieu ! ” Basil 
took the case, passed the string over his shoulders, 
pushed the bag under the breast of his hunting-shirt, 
pressed his father’s hand, and putting the spur to his 
horse rode briskly off. Lucien saluted his father with 
a kiss, waved his hand gracefully to Hugot, and fol- 
lowed. Francois remained a moment behind the rest 
— rode up to Hugot — caught hold of his great mous- 
tache, gave it a twitch that caused the ex-chasseur to 
grin again ; and then, with a loud yell of laughter, 
wheeled his pony, and galloped after his brothers. 

The Colonel and Hugot stood, for some moments 
watching them. When the boy hunters had reached 
the edge of the woods, all three reined up, turned in 
their saddles, and, taking off their hats, uttered a part- 
ing cheer. The Colonel and Hugot cheered in return. 

>7 When the noise had subsided, the voice of Francois 
was heard shouting back, — 

“ Fear not, p^a ! we ’ll bring you the white 
buffalo I ’ ’ 


28 


CHAPTER V. 


THB CAMP OP THP BOY HUNTPRS. 

O UR young adventurers turned their faces west- 
ward, and were soon riding under the shadows 
of majestic woods. At this time there were few white 
settlements west of the Mississippi river. The small 
towns upon its banks, with here and there a settler’s 
“ clearing ” or a squatter’s cabin, were the only signs 
of civilisation to be met with. A single day’s ride in 
a westerly direction would carry the traveller clear of 
all these, and launch him at once into the labyrinth of 
swamps and woods, that stretched away for hundreds 
of miles before him. It is true, there were some scat- 
tered settlements upon the bayous farther west, but 
most of the country between them was a wilderness. 

In an hour or so our travellers had ridden clear of 
the settlements that surrounded Point Coupee, and 
were following the forest ‘ ‘ trails, ’ ’ rarely travelled 
except by roving Indians, or the white hunters of the 
border country. The boys knew them well. They 
had often passed that way on former hunting expe- 
ditions. 


29 


ITbe Bop fDuiiters 


I shall not detail too minutely the events that oc- 
curred along their line of march. This would tire you, 
and take up too much space. I shall take you at once 
to their first encampment, where they had halted for 
the night. 

It was in a small glade or opening, such as are often 
met with in the forests west of the Mississippi. There 
was about an acre of clear ground, covered with grass 
and flowers, among which helianthus and blue lupines 
were conspicuous. Tall trees grew all around ; and 
3^ofi could tell from their leaves that these trees were of 
different kinds. You might have told that from their 
trunks as well, for these were unlike each other. 
Some were smooth, while upon others the bark was 
cracked, and crisped outward in large scales a foot or 
more in length. The beautiful tulip-tree (liriodendron) 
was easily distinguished by its straight column-like 
trunks, out of which are sawed those great planks of 
white poplar you may have seen, for that is the name 
by which it is known among carpenters and builders. 
The name of tulip-tree comes from its flowers, which 
in size and shape very much resemble tulips, and are 
of a greenish-yellow colour tinged with orange. It 
was the characteristic tree around the glade. There 
were many others, though ; and most conspicuous, 
with its large wax-like leaves and blossoms, w’as the 
magnolia grandiflora. The lofty sugar-maple {acer 
saccharmuni) was seen, and lower down the leafy buck- 


30 



THE CAMP OF THE BOY HUNTERS 










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Ube damp of the Ibuntera 


eye (cescuIus flavd) with its pretty orange-flowers, and 
the shell-bark hickory — the juglans alba of the botan- 
ists. Huge creeping plants stretched from tree to tree, 
or ran slanting upward ; and on one side of the glade 
you might observe the thick cane-reeds {a^'undo 
gigantea)^ growing like tall grass. The forest on the 
other side was more open ; no doubt, because some 
former fire had burned down the underwood in that 
direction. The fan-like leaves of palmettos and yuccas 
growing all around, gave a southern and tropical 
aspect to the scene. 

The young hunters had halted nearly two hours be- 
fore sunset, in order to give time to prepare their night- 
camp. About half an hour after their halt, the little 
glade presented a picture somewhat as follows : — Near 
its edge stood a small canvass tent, like a white cone 
or pyramid. The fly, or opening, was thrown back, 
for the evening was fine, and there was no one inside. 
A little to one side of the tent la^ three saddles upon 
the grass. They were of the Mexican fashion, with 
high pommel and can tie, a “horn” in front, with a 
staple and ring firmly fastened in the wood of the tree. 
There were several thongs of leather fastened to other 
rings behind the cantle ; but the stirrups were steel 
ones, and not those clumsy blocks of wood which so 
much disfigure the Mexican saddle. Beside the saddles 
was an odd-looking object. It resembled a gigantic 
book, partly open, and set upon the opened edges. It 

31 


Ube 3Bo^ 1bvxnter0 


was 2i pack-saddle^ also of Mexican fashion, and in that 
country called an “alpareja.” It had a strong lea- 
thern girth, with a breech-strap to keep it from run- 
ning forward upon the shoulders of the animal that 
might wear it. At a short distance from the saddles, 
several blankets — red and green ones — with a bear- 
skin and a couple of buffalo robes, were lying upon 
the grass ; and on a branch overhead hung whips, 
bridles, water-gourds, and spurs. Against the trunk 
of a tulip-tree, that towered over the tent, rested three 
guns. Two of them were rifles, of which one was 
much longer than the other ; the third piece was a 
double-barrelled shot-gun. Bullet-pouches and pow- 
der-horns hung from the muzzles of all three, their 
straps being suspended from the projecting ends of the 
rammers. 

On the opposite or leeward side of the tent a Are was 
burning. It had not been long kindled, and crackled 
as it blazed. You could easily have told the strong red 
flame to be that o? the shell-bark hickory — the best 
firewood — though dry sticks of some lighter wood had 
been used to kindle it. On each side of the fire a 
forked stick was stuck into the ground, with the forks 
at the top ; and on these rested a fresh-cut sapling, 
placed horizontally to serve as a crane. A two-gallon 
camp-kettle of sheet-iron was suspended upon it and 
over the fire, and the water in the kettle was just be- 
ginning to boil. Other utensils were strewed around. 


32 


tlbe Camp tbe Bos "Bjunters 


There was a frying-pan, some tin cups, several small 
packages containing flour, dried meat, and coffee ; a 
coffee-pot of strong tin, a small spade, and a light axe, 
with its curved hickory shaft. 

These were the inanimate objects of the picture. 
Now for the animate. 

First, then, were our heroes, the three Boy Hunters 
— Basil, lyucien, Francois. Basil was engaged by the 
tent, driving in the pins ; Lucien was attending to the 
fire which he has just kindled; while Francois was 
making the feathers fly out of a brace of wild pigeons 
he had shot on the way. No two of the three were 
dressed alike. Basil was all buckskin — except the cap, 
which was made from the skin of a raccoon, with the 
ringed-tail hanging over his shoulders like a drooping 
plume. He wore a hunting-shirt with fringed cape, 
handsomely ornamented with beads. A belt fastened 
it around his waist, from which was suspended his 
hunting-knife and sheath, with a small holster, out of 
which peeped the shining butt of a pistol. He wore 
deerskin leggings fringed down the seams, and mocas- 
sins upon his feet. His dress was just that of a back- 
woods’ hunter, except that his cotton under-garments 
looked finer and cleaner, and altogether his hunting- 
shirt was more tastefully embroidered than is common 
among professional hunters. 

Lucien’ s dress was of a sky-blue colour. It con- 
sisted of a half blouse, half hunting-shirt, of strong 

3 


33 


Ubc JSoy 1l3unteri5 


cottonade, with trousers of the same material. He had 
laced buskins on his feet, and a broad-brimmed Panama 
hat on his head. Hucien’s dress was somewhat more 
civilised in its appearance than that of his elder brother. 
Like him though he had a leather belt, with a sheath 
and knife on one side ; and, instead of a pistol, a small 
tomahawk on the other. Not that Lucien had set out 
with the intention of tomahawking anybody. No ; he 
tarried his little hatchet for cracking rocks, not skulls. 
Lucien’ s was a geological tomahawk. 

Francois was still in roundabout jacket with trousers. 
He wore leggings over his trousers^ and mocassins 
upon his feet, with a cloth cap set jauntily over his 
luxuriant curls. He, too, was belted with hunting- 
knife and sheath, and a very small pistol hung upon 
his left thigh. 

Out near the middle of the glade were three horses 
picketed on lasso-ropes, so that they might not inter- 
fere with each other whilst browsing. They were 
very different in appearance. One was a large brown- 
black horse — a half Arab — evidently endowed with 
great strength and spirit. That was Basil’s horse, 
and deservedly a favourite. His name was “Black 
Hawk ” — so called after the famous chief of the Sacs 
and Foxes, who was a friend of the old Colonel, and 
who had once entertained the latter when on a visit to 
these Indians. The second horse was a very plain 
one, a bay, of the kind known as “ cobs.” He was a 


34 


Ube Camp of tbe tbunters 


modest, sober animal, with nothing either of the 
hunter or warrior in his looks ; but sleek withal, and 
in good condition, like a well-fed citizen. Hence his 
name, which was “ He Bourgeois.” Of course he was 
ridden by the quiet Hucien. The third horse might 
have been termed a pony — if size be considered — as he 
was by far the smallest of the three. He was a horse, 
however, both in shape and character — one of that 
small but fiery breed taken by the Spanish conquerors 
to the New World, and now known throughout the 
western country as “mustangs.” As I shall have 
reason to say more of these beautiful creatures by and 
by, I shall only state here, that the one in question was 
spotted like a pard, and answered to the name “He 
Chat” (the cat) — particularly when Francois called 
him, for he was Francois’ horse. 

A little apart from the horses was another animal, 
of a dirty slate colour, with some white marks along 
the back and shoulders. That was a true-bred Mexi- 
can mule, wiry and wicked as any of its race. It was 
a she-mule, and was called Jeanette. Jeanette was 
tethered beyond kicking distance of the horses ; for 
between her and the mustang there existed no friendly 
feeling. Jeanette was the owner of the odd looking 
saddle, the pack. Jeanette’s duty was to carry the 
tent, the provisions, the implements, and utensils. 

But one other living object might be noticed in the 
glade — the dog ‘ ‘ Marengo. ’ ’ From his size and colour 
35 


Ube JBop Ibunters 


— which was tawny red — you might have mistaken him 
for a panther — a cougar. His long black muzzle and 
broad hanging ears gave him quite a different appear- 
ance, however ; and told you that he was a hound. 
He was, in fact, a blood-hound, with the cross of a 
mastiff— a powerful animal. He was crouching near 
I^ran^ois, watching for the offal of the birds. 

Now, young readers, you have before you a “night- 
camp ’ ’ of the Boy Hunters. 


36 


CHAPTER VI. 


A FOX-SQUIRRKI. IN A FIX. 

RANQOIS soon finished dressing his pigeons, 



JL and plunged them into the boiling water. A 
piece of dried meat was added, and then some salt and 
pepper, drawn from the store-bag, for it was the inten- 
tion of Fraiifois to make pigeon-soup. He next pro- 
ceeded to beat up a little flour with water, in order to 
give consistency to the soup. 

“ What a pity,” said he, “ we have no vegetables ! ” 
“ Hold ! ” cried Lucien, who overheard him. “ There 
appears to be a variety of green stuff in this neigh- 
bourhood. Eet me see what can be done.” 

So saying, Eucien walked about the glade with his 
eyes bent upon the ground. He seemed to find nothing 
among the grass and herbs that would do ; and pres- 
ently he strayed off among trees, towards the banks of 
a little stream that ran close by. In a few minutes he 
was seen returning wdth both his hands full of vege- 
tables. He made no remark, but flung them down 
before Francois. There were two species — one that 
resembled a small turnip, and, in fact, was the Indian 


37 


Zbc Ibunters 


turnip (^psoralea esculenfa)^ while the other was the 
wild onion found in many parts of America. 

“ Ha ! ” cried Francois, who at once recognised them, 
“ what luck ! pomme blanche, and wild onions too, as I 
live ! Now I shall make a soup worth tasting.” 

And he proceeded with great glee to cut up the 
vegetables, and fling them into the steaming kettle. 

In a short while the meat and pigeons were boiled, 
and the soup was ready. The kettle was taken from 
the crane ; and the three brothers, seating themselves 
on the grass, filled their tin cups, and set to eating. 
They had brought a supply of hard bread to last for a 
few da5^s. When that should give out, they would 
draw upon their bag of flour ; and when this, too, 
should be exhausted, it was their intention to go with- 
out bread altogether, as they had often done on like 
excursions before. 

While thus enjoying their pigeon-soup and picking 
the bones of the plump birds, the attention of all three 
was suddenly arrested by a movement near one side of 
the glade. They had just caught a glimpse of some- 
thing that looked like a flash of yellow light shooting 
up in a straight direction from the ground. 

All three guessed what it was — the lightning passage 
of a squirrel up the trunk of a tree ; and there was the 
animal itself, clinging flat against the bark, having 
paused a moment — as is usual with squirrels — before 
making another rush upward. 

38 


H jfojs^Squirrel in a jfij 


“Oh ! ” cried Lucien, in a suppressed voice, “it is 
a fox-squirrel, and such a beauty ! See ! it is marked 
like a tortoise-shell cat ! Papa would give twenty dol- 
lars for such a skin.” 

“ He shall have it for far less,” rejoined Francois, 
stealing towards his gun. 

“Stop, Francois ! ” said Fucien. “ Fet Basil tr}^ it 
with his rifle — he is a surer shot than you.” 

“Very well,” replied Francois; “but if he should 
miss, it ’s no harm for me to be ready.” 

Basil had already risen, and was silently making for 
the guns. On reaching them, he took the long rifle, 
and turned in the direction of the game. At the same 
moment Francois armed himself with his double- 
barrel. 

The tree up which the squirrel had run was what is 
termed a “ dead-wood.” It was a decaying tulip- tree 
— scathed by lightning or storm — and stood somewhat 
apart from the others, out in the open ground. There 
was little else standing but the naked trunk, which 
rose like a column to the height of sixty feet. The 
branches had all been swept away by the wind, with 
one exception ; and this was a long limb that stretched 
diagonally upward from the top of the trunk. The 
limb, although crooked and forking in several places, 
was not very thick. It . was without twigs or leaves, 
being of course, like the tree itself, dead. 

Whilst Basil and Francois were preparing their guns, 
39 


Ube Ibvinters 


the squirrel had made a second rush to the top of this 
limb ; where it sat itself down in a fork, and appeared 
to contemplate the setting sun. No better mark could 
have been desired for a shot, provided they could get 
near enough ; and that they were likely to do, for the 
little animal did not appear to regard the presence 
either of them or their horses — thus showing that it 
had never been hunted. With its bushy tail erect, 
and spread like a fan, it sat upon its haunches, ap- 
pearing to enjoy the warm beams that came from the 
west. 

The boys moved softly around the glade, Basil going 
foremost. When within range, as he thought, he raised 
his rifle, levelled it, and was about to pull the trigger, 
when the squirrel, that up to this moment had not no- 
ticed him, gave a sudden start, dropped its tail, and 
ran down the limb as if terrified. It did not stop until 
it had reached the main trunk. There it halted, a foot 
or two from the head, and lay flat against the bark. 

What could have alarmed it? Not the boys, for it 
had not minded them before ; moreover, it still kept 
upon their side of the tree, offering as fair a mark as 
ever. Had it feared them it would, as all squirrels do, 
have hidden from them behind the trunk. But no, it 
was not afraid of them ; for, as it lay horizontally, 
along the bark, its head was turned upward, and 
showed, by a peculiar motion, that it dreaded some 
enemy from above. And this was the fact, for high 


40 


B ffojsSquirrel in a jfij 


up and directly over the tree, a large bird of prey was 
seen circling in the air. • 

“ Hold ! ” whispered I^ucien, laying his hand upon 
Basil’s arm — “hold, brother! it is the red- tailed 
hawk. See, he is going to swoop down. I^et us 
watch him.” 

Basil lowered his rifle, and all three stood waiting. 
A leafy branch was over their heads, so that the bird 
did not see them, or, intent upon striking his prey, did 
not care for their presence at the moment. 

lyUcien had scarcely spoken, when the hawk, that 
had hitherto been sailing with his broad wings ex- 
panded, suddenly narrowed his tail, drew in his 
wings, and came down with a loud “whish-sh-sh !” 
He dropped almost perpendicularly, grazing the squir- 
rel so closely, that all three looked for it in his talons 
as he flew off again. Not so, however. The squirrel 
had been upon his guard ; and, as the hawk swooped 
down, had doubled around the tree with the quickness 
of a flash of lightning. By the guidance of his rudder- 
like tail the hawk soon turned, and flew round to that 
side of the tree on which the squirrel had now settled. 
A few strokes of his powerful wings soon enabled him 
to reach the proper elevation ; and again he swooped 
downward at his intended victim. The squirrel 
avoided him as before, and came back on the other 
side of the trunk. Again the hawk doubled, rose, 
darted downward at his prey, missed it, and swept on. 

41 


Zbc :©o^ 1[3unters 


A fourth attempt met with like success, and the bird 
once more flew back into the air, but still kept circling 
over the tree. 

“ It ’s a wonder old foxy does n’t take to another 
tree,” muttered Francois ; ” one with branches enough 
to .shelter him, or to his own tree where his hole is. 
There he would be safe.” 

“That’s exactly what he wishes to do,” replied 
Tucien. “ But see ! his enemy is directly over him. 
There ’s no tree near enough, and if he attempted to 
run along the open ground, the hawk would be down 
upon him like a shot. You saw how suddenly he 
dropped before ? ’ ’ 

This was, in fact, the situation in which the squirrel 
was. It was evident he regarded the trees at some 
distance with a wistful and anxious look ; for, although 
he had succeeded so far in bafiling his enemy, he still 
appeared to suffer from suspense and fear. 

As soon as the hawk had risen a dozen yards or so 
above the tree, he again commenced wheeling in cir- 
cles, uttering a strange cry as he flew. It was not a 
scream — as is often heard with these birds — but a cry 
of different import, as if a call to some comrade. It 
was so in fact, for in a moment it was answered from a 
distant part of the woods ; and the next moment an- 
other hawk — red-tailed like himself, but much larger 
— was seen soaring upwards. This was evidently his 
mate — for the female of these birds is always much 


42 


H 3foj:sSqutrrel in a 


larger than the males. The two soon came together, 
and wheeled above the tree, crossing each other’s or- 
bit, and looking downward. The squirrel now ap- 
peared doubly terrified — for he well knew their intent. 
He began to run around the trunk, looking outward 
at intervals, as though he intended to leap off and take 
to the thick woods. 

The hawks did not allow him long time to make up 
his mind. The smaller one swooped first, but missed 
the squirrel as before, driving him around the trunk. 
There the frightened creature had scarcely halted, 
when the great hen-hawk came at him with a whist- 
ling rush, and sent him back to the other side. The 
male bird had by this time turned, and now darted 
with such suddenness and precision that the squirrel, 
unable to pass round the tree again, sprang off into the 
air. Guided by his broad tail the hawk followed, and 
before the squirrel could reach the ground, the bird 
w^as seen to strike. Then with a loud scream he rose 
into the air, with the squirrel struggling in his talons. 

His triumph was a short one. The crack of a shot- 
gun was heard from behind, and both hawk and squir- 
rel fell heavily to the earth. Another crack followed, 
almost instantaneously, and his mate, the great hen- 
hawk, came tumbling down with a broken wing, and 
fluttered over the grass, screaming like a cat. She 
was soon silenced by a stroke from the butt of Fran- 
cois’ gun — both barrels of which were now empty — for 
43 


Zbc Ibunters 


it was Francois that had done the business for the red- 
tails. 

What was most singular of all, the squirrel was not 
killed either by the shot or the fall. On the contrary, 
as lyucien was delibrately stooping to pick it up — con- 
gratulating himself all the while upon his prize — it 
suddenly made a spring, shook itself clear of the claws 
of the dead hawk, and, streaking off into the woods, 
ran up a tall tree. All three followed as fast as they' 
could run ; but on reaching the tree — an oak five feet 
thick — they saw, to their mortification, the squirrel’s 
hole about fifty feet from the ground, which, of course, 
brought that squirrel hunt to its termination. 


44 


CHAPTER VII. 


FRANCOIS GETS AN UGI.Y FAI.I.. 

HE next encampment of our hunters was upon 



X the Bayou Crocodile. This, like all the bayous 
of Louisiana, is a sluggish stream, and here and there 
expands itself into large ponds or lakes. It is called 
Bayou Crocodile from the great number of alligators 
that infest its waters, though in this respect it differs 
but little from the other rivers of Louisiana. 

The spot chosen for the camp was an open space 
upon the bank, at a point where the bayou widened 
into a small lake. The situation commanded a view 
of the shores of this lake all around — and a singular 
view that was. Giant trees rose over the water — live 
oaks and cypresses — and from their spreading branches 
the Spanish moss hung trailing down like long stream- 
ers of silver thread. This gave the upper part of the 
woods a somewhat hoary appearance, and would have 
rendered the scene rather a melancholy one, had it not 
been for the more brilliant foliage that relieved it. 
Here and there a green magnolia glistened in the sun, 
with its broad white flowers, each of them as large 


45 


XTbe Ibunters 


as a dining-plate. Underneath grew the thick cane 
{arundo giganted), its tall pale-green reeds standing 
parallel to each other, and ending in lance-shaped 
blades, like stalks of giant wheat before its ears have 
shot. Over this again rose the grey limbs of the tu- 
peloo-tree {nyssa aquaticd), with light leaves and thin 
foliage. The beautiful palmetto {chamcerops) lifted 
its fan-like branches, as if to screen the earth from the 
hot sun that poured down upon it, and here and there 
its singular shapes were shadowed in the water. From 
tree to tree huge parasites stretched like cables — vines, 
and lianas, and various species of convolvulus. Some 
of these were covered with thick foliage, while others 
exhibited a surface of splendid flowers. The scarlet 
cups of the trumpet- vine (bignonza), the white starlike 
blossoms of the cypress-creeper, and the pink flowers 
of the wild althea or cotton-rose {hibiscus grandiflord), 
all blended their colours, inviting the large painted 
butterflies and ruby-throated humming birds that 
played among their silken corollas. As if in contrast 
with these bright spots in the landscape, there were 
others that looked dark and gloomy. You could see 
through long vistas in the forest, where the trees grew 
out of green slimy water. Here there was no under- 
wood, either of cane or palmettos. The black trunks 
of the cypresses rose branchless for nearly an hundred 
feet, and from their spreading limbs drooped the grey 
weeping moss. Huge ‘ ‘ knees ’ ’ could be distinguished, 
46 


ifrancois Gets an ffall 


shooting up like cones or trees that had been broken 
off, leaving their broken trunks in the ground. Some- 
times a huge creeper, a foot or more in diameter, 
stretched across these gloomy aisles, as though a 
monster serpent were passing from tree to tree. 

The lake was alive with alligators. These could be 
seen basking along the low banks, or crawling away 
into the dark and shadowy swamp. Some were float- 
ing gently on the surface of the stream, their long 
crests and notched backs protruding above the water. 
When not in motion these hideous creatures resembled 
dead logs of wood ; and most of them were lying 
quiet — partly from their natural disinclination to move 
about, and partly waiting for their pre}^ Those that 
basked upon the banks held their jaws expanded, that 
at intervals were heard to close with a loud snap. 
These were amusing themselves by catching the flies, 
that, attracted by the musky odour, flew around their 
hideous jaws, and lit upon their slimy tongues. Some 
were fishing in the stream, and at intervals the stroke 
of their tails upon the water could be heard at the dis- 
tance of half a mile or more. ‘ Their croaking resounded 
through the woods somewhat like the noise made by 
bull-frogs, but loud and terrible as the bellowing of 
bulls. A horrid appearance they presented ; but our 
hunters were accustomed to the sight, and had no fear 
of these animals. 

There were other objects around the lake more 
47 




trbe Ibuntera 


pleasing to contemplate. On a distant point stood a 
troop of flamingoes, drawn up in order like a company 
of soldiers, their scarlet plumage shining in the sun. 
Near them was a flock of whooping-cranes — each as 
tall as a full-grown man — at intervals uttering their 
loud trumpet notes. The great egret, too, was there, 
with its snowy plumage and orange bill ; the delicately- 
formed lyouisiana heron, with droves of sand-hill cranes, 
appearing in the distance like flocks of white sheep. ‘ 

Pelicans, with their pouched throats and scythe-like 
bills, stood in melancholy attitudes, and beside them 
were the white and scarlet ibis, and the purple gallinule. 
Roseate spoonbills waded through the shallows, strik- 
ing their odd-shaped beaks at the crabs and cray-fish ; 
and upon projecting limbs of trees perched the black 
darter, his long snake-like neck stretched eagerly over 
the water. In the air a flock of buzzard vultures were 
wheeling lazily about, and a pair of ospreys hung over 
the lake, now and then swooping down upon their finny 
prey. 

Such was the scene around the camp of the boy 
hunters, a scene often to be witnessed among the 
wilderness-swamps of Louisiana. 

The tent was set near the bank of the bayou, where 
the ground was dry and high. The spot was open — 
only a few scattered palmettos growing over it — and 
the animals were picketed upon the grass near by. 
There was venison for supper. Basil’s unerring rifle 
48 


ifran^ois (Sets an ifalt 


had brought down* a doe, just as they were about to 
halt ; and Basil was an accomplished butcher of such- 
like game. The doe was soon skinned, and the choice 
pieces cut out — enough to serve for supper and break- 
fast upon the following morning. The haunches w’ere 
hung on a limb, to be carried along, as the next day’s 
hunt might not turn out so successful. There was 
still enough left to make a splendid supper for Marengo, 
and that hungry animal took full advantage of the 
occasion. He knew that in an excursion like the 
present it was not every day that a fat doe turned up ; 
or when it did, that .such a portion of its carcass was 
likely to fall to his share. 

It was still early, wanting full two hours of sunset, 
when the hunters finished their supper — dinner it should 
rather be called — as, with the exception of some dry 
mouthfuls at their noon halt, they had not eaten since 
breakfast. 

When the meal was over, Basil again looked to re- 
pairing the harness of the mule — that had got out of 
order on the march — while Lucien drew out his note- 
book and pencil, and, sitting down upon a buffalo-robe, 
commenced entering his observations for the day. 
Francois having no employment, resolved upon creep- 
ing around the edge of the bayou, to have a shot at 
the flamingoes, if he should be lucky enough to get 
near them. This he knew would be no easy matter, 
but he had made up his mind to try it ; and, having 

4 


49 


Ube IfDunters 


told his brothers of his intention,* he shouldered his 
gun and went off. 

He was soon out of sight, having passed into some 
thick timber that grew along the edge of the water, 
through which there was a plain trail made by deer 
and other wild animals. He kept along this trail, 
sheltering himself behind the trees, so that the flamin- 
goes, that were several hundred 3^ards farther down 
the bayou, might not see him as he approached. 

He had not been out of sight more than five minutes, 
when Basil and Hucien were startled by the report of 
a gun, and then another following quickly after. They 
knew it was Fran9ois’ fowling-piece ; but what had he 
fired at ? It could not have been the flamingoes, as he 
had not had time to get within range of them. Besides, 
the birds, where they had been sitting on the far shore, 
were visible from the camp ; and all of them, affrighted 
by the reports, were now seen winging their way over 
the tops of the trees. No, it could not have been at 
flamingoes Francois fired. What then ? This was the 
question which Basil and Tucien put to each other, not 
without some feelings of anxiety. Perhaps thought 
they, Francois has sprung a deer, or trampled up a 
flock of turkeys ? So the brothers were fain to to con- 
jecture ; but their conjectures were soon ended b}^ 
Francois himself, who was heard far off through the 
woods, shouting in a fearful manner. 

Basil and Tucien seized their rifles, and ran forward 


50 


Jprau90is ©ets an Ulols jfall 


to find him ; but before they could reach the piece of 
timber, Francois was seen coming up the trail between 
the trees, and running as if for his life ! In front of 
him an object appeared, like a dead log, lying directly 
across the path. It could not be that, for it was in 
motion. It was a living animal — an alligator ! 

It was one, too, of the largest dimensions — nearly 
twenty feet in length, and lay right across the path. 
Basil and Lucien saw it the moment they got opposite 
the opening. They saw, too, it was not that which 
was putting Francois to his speed, for he was running 
directly upon it. Something behind him occupied all 
his thoughts, and he did not see the alligator at all ; 
for, although his brothers shouted to warn him, he ran 
on ; and, stumbling over the hideous body of the rep- 
tile, fell flat upon his face — his gun pitching forward 
out of his hands as he fell. He was not hurt, how- 
ever, but, scrambling to his feet again, continued his 
race, shouting, as he emerged half breathless out of 
the bushes, “ A bear ! a bear ! ” 

Basil and Tucien, making ready their pieces, looked 
along the trail. There, sure enough, was a bear com- 
ing up as fast as he could gallop. It was at him 
Francois had fired. The small shot had only served 
to irritate him ; and, seeing such a puny antagonist as 
Francois, he had given chase. 

At first they all thought of taking to their heels, 
and seeking safety by mounting their horses ; but the 
51 


Ubc :!6o^ 1[3unters 


bear had got too near, and one or other might be 
caught before they could reach the horses and loose 
them. They resolved, therefore, to make a stand. 
Basil, who had been at the killing of a black bear be- 
fore now, was not so much afraid of the encounter; 
so he and Lucien held their rifles in readiness to give 
Bruin a warm reception. 

The latter came lumbering on, until he had reached 
the place where the alligator lay. The reptile had 
turned itself half round, and was now standing on its 
short legs, lengthwise along the path, puffing like a 
pair of blacksmith’s bellows. The bear, intent upon 
his pursuit of Francois, did not see it until he had 
stumbled right upon its body ; and then, uttering a 
loud snort, he leaped to one side. This gave the alli- 
gator the very opportunity he would have sought ; and 
the next moment his powerful tail was lashed with 
such force against the bear, that the ribs of the latter 
were heard to crack under the blow. 

The bear — who would otherwise have left the alli- 
gator to himself — became so infuriated at this unpro- 
voked assault, that he turned and sprang upon his new 
enemy, seizing him round the body in a firm hug. 
Both struggled over the ground, the one growling and 
snorting, while the other uttered a sound like the 
routing of a bull. 

How long the conflict would have lasted, and which 
would have proved victor had they been left to them- 


52 


p 

t 



THE END OF THE FIGHT 





lfran§ois ©ets an "Clglg dFall 


selves, is not known ; for Basil and louden both fired, 
wounding the bear. This caused him to relax his hug, 
and he now seemed anxious to get off ; but the reptile 
had seized one of his feet in his powerful jaws and 
thus held him fast, all the while crawling and dragging 
him down to the water. The bear was evidently aware 
of the intention qf his antagonist, and uttered loud and 
pitiful moanings, at times screaming like a hog under 
the knife of the butcher. It was all to no purpose. 
His unrelenting enemy gained the bank ; and dragging 
him along plunged into the deep water. Both went 
down together — completely disappearing from the eyes 
of the spectators — and although the boys watched for 
nearly an hour, neither beast nor reptile was seen to 
rise again to the surface. The bear no doubt had been 
drowned at once, and the alligator, after having suffo- 
cated him, had hidden his carcass in the mud, or 
dragged it along the bottom to some other part of the 
bayou — there to make a meal of it at his leisure. 


53 


CHAPTER VIII. 


ABOUT AUIylGATORS, 


HE boys now returned to tlieir tent, impressed 



with curious feelings by the scene they had 


just witnessed. They lay down upon the grass, and 
entered into a conversation, of which bears and alli- 
gators formed the subjects. The latter, however, with 
their singular and revolting habits, came in for the 
greater share of their talk. Many odd stories in rela- 
tion to them were known to all, even to the little 
Francois ; and Basil, being an old hunter among the 
swamps and bayous, was acquainted with many of the 
habits of these animals. But Basil was not much of 
an observer ; and he had only noticed such peculiarities 
as, from time to time, were forced upon his attention 
by the incidents of the chase. Eucien, however, had 
more closely observed their habits, and had also studied 
them from books. He was, therefore, well acquainted 
with all that is known to the naturalist concerning 
these animals ; and at the request of his brothers he 
consented to while away the twilight hours, by impart- 
ing to them such information about them as he himself 
possessed. 


Bbout Blltgators 


“The alligator,” began he, “belongs to the order 
Sauria, or lizards. This order is again divided into 
several families, one of which is termed Crocodilida^ or 
crocodiles ; and the family of crocodiles is subdivided 
into three genera, each of which has several species.” 

“ How many species in all? ” demanded Basil. 

“There are not more than a dozen varieties of 
the whole crocodile family — at least, there are not 
more known to naturalists.” 

“Then I was thinking why there should be all 
this division and subdivision into orders, families, 
genera, and species, for a dozen varieties of the same 
animal, and these all so like each other in shape and 
habits — are they not so ? ” 

“They are,” answered Tucien, “very similar in 
their characteristics. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Then, why so much classing of them ? It appears 
to me to be quite usele.ss.” 

“ The object of this classing is to make the study 
of their natural history more easy and simple. But 
you are right, brother, in the present case ; it appears 
quite useless, and only renders the thing more complex 
and obscure. Where there are many varieties or 
species of a family or order of animals, and where 
these species differ widely from each other in appear- 
ance and habits, then such minute classifications 
become necessary to assist one’s memory ; but I say 
again, brother, you are quite right as to the present 
55 


XTbe Ibunters 


case. There is no need for the numerous divisions 
and subdivisions which have been made of the croco- 
dile family.” 

” Who made them, then ? ” asked Francois. 

“Who!” exclaimed Tucien, with some warmth; 
“who, but <:/^75^/-naturalists, old mummy hunters of 
museums ! Bah ! it makes one angry.” 

As lyucien said this, his usually mild countenance 
exhibited an expression of mingled indignation and 
contempt. 

‘‘What is there in it to ^make one angry?” in- 
quired Basil, looking up at his brother with some 
astonishment. 

“Why, to think,” answ^ered Lucien, “that these 
same closet-naturalists should have built themselves 
up great names by sitting in their easy chairs measur- 
ing, and adding up, and classing into dry catalogues, 
objects which they knew veiy^ little about ; and 
that little they obtained from the observations of 
others — true naturalists — men like the great Wilson 
— men who toiled, and travelled, and exposed them- 
selves to countless dangers and fatigues for the pur- 
pose of collecting and observing ; and then for these 
men to have the fruits of their labours filched from 
them, and descanted upon in dry arithmetical terms 
by these same catalogue-makers. Bah ! ’ ’ 

“Stay, brother; Wilson was not robbed of the 
fruits of his labours ! He became famous.” 

56 


Bbout Blligators 


“Yes, and he died from the struggles and hard- 
ships that made him so. It reminds me of the 
fabled song of the swan, brother. He told his 
beautiful tale, and died. Ah ! poor Wilson, he was 
a true naturalist.” 

“ His name will live forever.” 

‘ ‘ Aye, that it will, when many of the philosophic 
naturalists, now so much talked of, shall be forgotten, 
or only remembered to have their quaint theories 
laughed at, and their fabulous descriptions turned 
into ridicule. Fortunately for Wilson, he was too 
poor and toO humble to attract their patronage until 
his book was published. Fortunately for him he knew 
no great Finneus or Count Buffon, else the vast stories 
which he had been at so much pains to collect would 
have been given to the world under another name. 
Look at Bartram.” 

“ Bartram ! ” exclaimed Francois; “why, I never 
heard the name. Luce.” 

“ Nor I,” added Basil. 

“There it is, you see. Few know his name; and 
yet this same John Bartram, a farmer of Pennsylvania, 
who lived an hundred years ago, did more to spread, 
not only a knowledge of American plants, but the 
plants themselves, than any one who has lived since. 
Most of the great gardens of England — Kew among 
the rest — are indebted to this indefatigable botanist 
for their American flora ; and there were few of the 
57 


Ube ‘ffDunters 


naturalists of that time — Linneus not excepted — that 
were not largely indebted to him for their facts and 
their fame. They took his plants and specimens — 
collected by arduous, toilsome, and perilous journey- 
ings — they put names to them — noble and kingly names 
— for king-sycophants most of them w^ere, these same 
naturalists — they described them as they call it — such 
descriptions, indeed ! and then adopted them as their 
own discoveries. And what did they give John Bar- 
tram in return for all his trouble ? Why, the English 
king gave him ^o.£ to enable him to travel over thou- 
sands of miles of wilderness in search of rare plants, 
many of which on reaching England were worth hun- 
dreds of pounds each ! This was all the poor botanist 
had for enriching the gardens of Kew, and sending 
over the first magnolias and tulip-trees that ever blos- 
somed in England ! What did the scientific naturalists 
do for him ? They stole his histories and descriptions, 
and published them under their own names. Now, 
brothers, what think you of it ? Is it not enough to 
spoil one’s temper when one reflects upon such in- 
j ustice ? ’ ’ 

Both Basil and Francois signified their assent. 

“It is to such men as Hearne, and Bartram, and 
Wilson, that we are indebted for all we know of 
natural history — at least, all that is worth knowing. 
What to us is the dry knowledge of scientific classi- 
fications? For my part, I believe that the authors 
58 


Hbout HUtgators 


of them have obscured rather than simplified the 
knowledge of natural history. Take an example. 
There is one before our eyes. You see those long 
streamers hanging down from the live oaks ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, yes,” replied Francois ; “the Spanish moss.” 
“Yes, Spanish moss, as we call it here, or old man' s- 
beard moss, as they name it in other parts. It is no 
moss, however, but a regular flowering plant, although 
a strange one. Now, according to these philosophic 
naturalists, that long, stringy, silvery creeper, that 
fooks ver)^ like an old man’s beard, is of the same fam- 
ily of plants as the pineapple ! ” 

“ Ha ! ha ! ha ! ” roared Francois ; “ Spanish moss 
the same as a pineapple plant ! Why, they are no 
more like than my hat is to the steeple of a church.” 

“They are unlike,” continued Lucien, “in every 
respect — in appearance, in properties, and uses ; and 
yet, were you to consult the dry books of the closet- 
naturalists, you would learn that this Spanish moss 
(^Tillandsia') was of a certain family of plants, and a 
few particulars of that sort, and that is all you would 
learn about it. Now what is the value of such a 
knowledge ? What is it to compare with a knowledge 
of the appearance, the structure, and character of the 
plant — of its properties and the ends for which nature 
designed it — of its uses to the birds and beasts around 
— of its uses to man — how it makes his mattrass to 
sleep on, stuffs his sofas, and saddles, and chairs equal 

59 


Ube :Bop Ibunters 


to the best horse-hair, and would even feed his horse 
in case of a pinch ? In my opinion, these are the facts 
worth knowing ; and who are the men who publish 
such facts to the world? Not your closet-naturalists, 
I fancy.’’ 

‘ ‘ True, very true, brother ; but let us not vex our- 
selves about such things ; go on, and tell us what you 
know of the crocodiles. ’ ’ 

“ Well, then,” said Tucien returning to his natural 
tone and manner, ” as I have already said, the croco- 
diles are divided into three genera — crocodiles, gavials"^ 
and alligators. It is Baron Cuvier who has made this 
distinction ; and he rests it more upon the shape of the 
head and the set of the teeth, than upon any real dif- 
ference in the appearance or habits of these animals. 
The crocodiles have long, pointed, narrow snouts, and 
a large tooth in each side of the lower jaw, which, 
when the mouth shuts, passes into a groove in the 
upper. ‘These are the true crocodiles,’ says M. 
Cuvier. The gavials have also long, pointed, narrow, 
roundish snouts, but their teeth are nearly equal-sized 
and even. The alligators, on the contrary, have broad 
pike-shaped noses, with teeth very unequal, and one 
large one on each side of the lower jaw, that, when 
the mouth shuts, passes — not into a groove as with the 
crocodile — but, into a hole or socket in the upper jaw. 
These are M. Cuvier’s distinctions; which he takes a 
world of pains to point out and prove. He might, in 
6o 


Hbout HlUgators 


my opinion, have spared himself the trouble, as there 
are so few varieties of the animal in existence, that 
they might have been treated of with greater simplicity 
as so many species of the genus ‘ crocodile.’ 

“ Of the true crocodiles there are five species known. 
Four of these are found in the rivers of Africa, while 
the fifth is an inhabitant of the West Indies and South 
America. The gavial is found in Asia — particularly 
in the Ganges and other Indian rivers, and is the croco- 
dile of those parts. The alligator belongs to America, 
where it is distributed extensively both in North and 
South America. In the Spanish parts it is called 
‘ caiman,’ and there are two species well known, viz. : 
the spectacled caiman of Guiana, and the alligator of 
the Mississippi. No doubt, when the great rivers of 
South America have been properly explored, it will 
come to light, that there are other varieties than these. 
I have heard of a species that inhabits the Lake Va- 
lencia in Venezuela, and which differs from both the 
American species mentioned. It is smaller than either, 
and is much sought after by the Indians for its flesh, 
which these people eat, and of which they are particu- 
larly fond. It is probable, too, that new species of 
crocodiles may yet be found in Africa and the islands 
of the Indian Ocean. 

“Now I think it is a well-ascertained fact, that all 
these varieties of the crocodile family have pretty much 
the same habits, — differing only where such difference 

6i 


Ubc Ibunters 


might be expected by reason of climate, food, or other 
circumstance. What I shall tell you of the alligator, 
then, will apply in a general way to all his scaly cous- 
ins. You know his colour, — dusky-brown above, and 
dirty yellowish-white underneath. You know that he 
is covered all over with scales, and you see that on his 
back these scales rise into protuberances like little pyr- 
amids, and that a row of them along the upper edge of 
his tail give it a notched, saw-like appearance. You 
notice that the tail is flattened vertically, and not like 
the tail of the beaver, which is compressed horizontally. 
You observe that the legs are short and very muscular 
— that there are five toes on the fore-feet, slightly 
webbed or palmated, and four on the hind-feet, much 
longer and much more webbed. You notice that his 
head is somewhat like that of a pike, that the nostrils 
are near the end of the snout, the eyes prominent, and 
the opening of the ears just behind them. His eyes 
have dark pupils, with a lemon-coloured iris ; and the 
pupils are not round, as in the eye of a man, but of an 
oval shape, something like those of a goat. 

“ All these things you may observe by looking at an 
alligator. But there are some things about the struc- 
ture of the animal which are peculiar, and which may 
not strike you so readily. You observe that his jaws 
open far back — even beyond the ears — where they are 
hinged or articulated into each other. Now this is a 
peculiar formation, and the effect is, that when the 
62 


Hbout Hlligators 


alligator opens his mouth, his neck becomes somewhat 
bent upwards, giving him the appearance of having 
moved the upper instead of the under jaw.” 

“Why I have often heard that that was so,” re- 
marked Frangois. 

“ Many have thought so, and said so, since the time 
of Herodotus, who first propagated this absurd idea. 
It is not the fact, however. It is the lower jaw that 
moved, as in other vertebrated animals ; but the ap- 
pearance I have described leads to the mistake that 
has been made by careless observers. There is another 
point worth speaking of. The opening of the alliga- 
tor’s ear is guarded by a pair of lips, which he closes 
the moment he goes under water. His nostrils, too, 
are protected by valves, which he can also close at 
will. There is also a peculiarity about his vertebrae. 
These are so jointed to each other, that he cannot turn 
without describing a circle with his body. He can 
move his head but slightly to one side or the other ; 
and this is a fortunate circumstance, if not for him, at 
least for his enemies. Were he able to turn short 
round, or twist himself about, as serpents do, he would 
be a most dangerous creature to encounter. As it is, 
the great length of his body, combined with the short- 
ness of his legs and the impossibility of his getting 
round quickly, renders him an easy antagonist on land, 
provided you keep out of reach of his great jaws, and 
beyond the sweep of his powerful tail. This last is his 
63 


trbe :Sop Ibuntera 


true weapon of offence or defence ; and as it is not re- 
strained by any vertebrae, he can use it with such effect 
as to knock the breath out of a man with one single 
flap. Many of the habits of the alligator are known to 
you. How the female lays eggs as big as those of a 
goose, and buries them in the sand, where they are 
hatched by the heat of the sun. Sometimes she can- 
not find a sandbank to suit her purpose. She then 
raises a circular platform of mud mixed with grass and 
sticks. Upon this she deposits a layer of eggs, and 
covers them over with several inches of mud and grass. 
She then lays a fresh tier of eggs, covering these also 
with mud, and so on until she has laid her whole 
hatching, which often amounts to nearly two hundred 
eggs, of a dirty greenish-white colour. In the end .she 
covers all up with mud, plastering it with her tail until 
it assumes the appearance of a mud oven or beaver 
house. All this pains she takes to protect her eggs 
from raccoons and turtles, as well as vultures and other 
birds, that are very fond of them. She haunts near 
the spot while the eggs are hatching, so as to keep off 
these enemies. When the young are out, !ier first care 
is to get them to the water, out of the way of such dan- 
gers. This seems to be their first instinct, too ; for no 
sooner are they free from the shell than they are seen 
scuttling off in that direction, or following their mother, 
many of them having climbed upon her back and 
shoulders. ’ ’ 


64 


Hbout HlUgator^ 


“But, brother,” interrupted Francois, “is it true 
that the old males eat their own young ? ” 

“ Horrible though it be, it is perfectly true, Fran- 
cois. I mj^self have seen it.” 

“ And I,” said Basil, “ several times.” 

‘ ‘ The first care of the mother is to get them to the 
water, where she can better conceal them from their 
unnatural parent ; but, notwithstanding all her pre- 
cautions, many of them fall victims, both to the old 
alligators, and the larger tortoises, and birds. As soon 
as the young ones have learned a little sense, if I may 
so speak, they elude their monster fathers and uncles, 
as they are nimbler in their movements, and can keep 
out of reach of their great jaws and tails. I have 
often seen the small alligators riding upon the backs 
of the larger ones, knowing that the latter could not 
reach them in that situation.” 

‘ ‘ They appear to eat anything that conies in their 
way,” remarked Frangois. 

“ They are not very particular as to that. Fish is 
their favourite food, I believe, but they will eat any 
land animal they can kill ; and it is believed they pre- 
fer it in a state of putrefaction. That is a doubtful 
point. They have been known to kill large animals 
in the water, and leave them at the bottom for several 
days ; but this may have happened because they were 
not hungry at the time, and were merely keeping them 
until they should get an appetite. The process of di- 


Ubc feunteta 


gestion with them, as with all reptiles, is very slow ; 
hence they do not require such quantities of food as 
the warm-blooded animals — mammals and birds. For 
instance, they bury themselves in the mud, and lie 
asleep during the whole winter without any food.” 

“You say fish is their favourite food. Luce,” said 
Basil ; “ now I think they are fonder of dogs than 
anything else. I have often known them to come 
where they had heard the yelping of a dog as if for 
the purpose of devouring it. I have seen one seize a 
large dog that was swimming across the Bayou Boeuf, 
and drag him under, »as quick as a trout would have 
taken a fly. The dog was never seen again.” 

“It is very true,” replied Lucien, “that they will 
eat dogs, as they will any other animals ; but their 
being particularly fond of them is a point about which 
naturalists differ. It is true they will approach the 
spot where they hear the yelping of a dog ; but some 
say that this is because it so much resembles the whin- 
ing of their own young, and that it is these they are 
in search of.” 

“ But I have seen both the males and females make 
towards the dog.” 

“Just so. The males went to devour the young, as 
they thought, and the females followed to protect them. 
Great battles are often fought between the males and 
females on this account.” 

“ But how is it. Luce,” inquired Francois, “ how is 
66 


Hbout HlUgators 


it they can catch fish that appear so much swifter than 
themselves ? ’ ’ 

“ Very few kinds of fish are swifter. The alligator, 
by means of his webbed feet, and particularly his fiat 
tail — which acts on the principle of a stern oar to a 
boat, and a rudder as well — can pass through the 
water as swiftly as most of the finny tribe. It is not 
by hunting it down, however, but by stratagem, that 
the alligator secures a fish for his maw. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ By what stratagem ? ’ ’ 

“ You have often noticed them floating on the 
surface of the water, bent into a sort of semicircular 
shape, and without moving either body or limb ? ” 

“ Yes — yes ; I have noticed it many a time.” 

“Well, if you could have looked under the water 
then, you would have seen a fish somewhere upon the 
convex side of the semicircle. The fish would be at 
rest — no doubt, watching the surface for his own prey : 
such flies or beetles as might come along. Thus occu- 
pied, he does not heed the great dusky mask that is 
gliding slowly towards him, and which presents no 
threatening appearance — for the head of the alligator 
is at this time turned away from his intended victim. 
Although apparently asleep, the alligator knows what 
he is about well enough. He floats silently on, until 
he has got the fish within sweep of his great tail, that 
is all the while bent like a bow ; and then, taking sure 
aim, he strikes the unconscious prey a ‘ slap ’ that 
67 


Ube Ibunters 


kills it at once — sometimes throwing it directly into 
his jaws, and sometimes flinging it several feet out of 
the water ! 

“When on land the alligator strikes his prey in a 
similar manner. As he gives the blow, his head turns 
so as to meet the tail half-way — the whole body thus 
forming a semicircle. Should the prey not be killed 
by the blow of the tail, it is flung right into the jaw^s 
of the monster, where it is sure to be despatched in a 
trice.” 

“But, brother,” inquired Basil, “why do the alli- 
gators eat stones and such substances ? I have seen 
one that was opened, and his stomach was nearly 
quarter full of stones as big as my fist, and pieces of 
sticks and glass. They looked as if they had been 
there a long time, for the sharp edges were worn off. 
This I never could understand.” 

“ No wonder, for wiser naturalists than we do not 
know the reason of this. Some think it is upon the 
same principle, and for the same reason, that birds and 
other creatures swallow gravel and earth — to assist the 
process of digestion. Others have affirmed that it is 
for the purpose of distending the stomach, so as to 
enable the reptile to bear his long fast while torpid 
during the winter. This latter reason I look upon as 
very absurd, and worthy only of the fabulous Bufibn. 
For my part, I believe that the rubbish usually found 
in the alligator’s stomach is collected there by accident 
68 


Hbout HlUoators 


— swallowed, from time to time, by mistake, or along 
with his prey ; for his organs of taste are far from be- . 
ing delicate, and he will devour anything that is flung 
into the water, even a glass bottle. These substances, 
of course, remain in his stomach — perhaps accumulat- 
ing there during his whole lifetime — and as, like most 
reptiles, his stomach being very strong, they do him 
little, if any, injury. We must not judge of an alli- 
gator’s stomach as we would that of a human being; 
nor, indeed, of any of his organs. If our brain is 
seriously injured, we die ; but an alligator’s brain may 
be altogether removed, even in the most violent man- 
ner, and the animal will crawl off and live for days 
after. Instances have been known of alligators hav- 
ing had their brains -blown out by a shot, and 3^et for 
hours after they would give battle to any one who 
might approach them. Their brain, like that of all 
reptiles, is exceedingly small — proving them lower in 
the scale of intelligence than birds and mammals.” 

“ But, Tucien, you tell us that the habits of the 
crocodile family are alike, or nearly so : how comes 
it that the African crocodiles are so much more flerce, 
as we have heard, often attacking and devouring the 
natives of Senegal and the Upper Nile ? Our alliga- 
tors are not so. It is true they sometimes bite the legs 
of our negroes ; and we have heard also of some boys 
who have been killed by them ; but this was when 
through negligence they came in the animals’ way. 

69 


Ube Ibunters 


They do not attack one if they are left alone. We, for 
•instance, are not a bit afraid to approach them with 
only a stick in our hands.” 

“That is because we feel certain they are too 
clumsy on land to get at us, as we can easily leap 
out of the reach of their tails and jaws. How would 
you like to swim across that bayou at this moment ? 
I dare say you would not venture it.” 

“ Not a bit of it — you are right there.” 

“ And if you did, you would, in all probability, be 
attacked before you could reach the opposite shore. 
But our alligators are not now what they were an hun- 
dred 3^ears ago. We know, from the best authority, 
that they were then much more fierce and dangerous, 
and often attacked men without* provocation. They 
have grown afraid of us^ because they know that we 
are dangerous to them ; and they can easily distin- 
guish our upright form and shape from those of other 
animals. Look how they have been hunted by men 
during the mania for alligator leather, and see how 
many of them are still killed for their oil and tails. It 
is quite natural, then, they should fear us ; and you 
may notice they are much more timid near the plan- 
tations and settlements than in the wilder parts. I 
have no doubt — and I have so heard it — that there 
are places in the great swamps where they are still 
dangerous to approach. Thbse who assert that the 
African crocodiles are more fierce, do not draw their 


Hbout HlU^ators 


conclusions from facts. The caimans of South Amer- 
ica — and these are alligators — are quite as fierce as the 
crocodiles. I have read many accounts of their at- 
tacking the natives of Guiana and Brazil, and devour- 
ing them, too. -Much of this is fabulous, no doubt ; 
but there are some stories of the kind well authenti- 
cated, and I have heard one which I am certain is 
true. I shall relate it, if you desire, though it is a 
very horrible and very melancholy tale, and I could 
well wish it had not been true.” 

“ Oh ! tell it — tell it us,” cried Frangois. “We 
can bear the narrative ; neither Basil nor I have weak 
nerves. Have we, Basil ? ’ ’ 

“No,” replied Basil. “I guess we can stand it, 
Frank. Go on, Fuce.” 

“Very well, then,” said Lucien, “I shall give it, 
as it is not long, and is therefore not likely to weary 
you.” 


71 


CHAPTER IX. 


THK INDIAN MOTHER AND CAIMAN. 
here is, perhaps no part of America where 



the alligators grow to a greater size, and 


are more fierce in their nature, than upon the Magda- 
lena, and other great rivers that run into it. These 
rivers flow through a low country within the tropics ; 
their climate is of the hottest kind, and consequently 
most suitable to the development of the great reptiles. 
The indolent character of the natives, too — half Indian, 
half Spanish — prevents them from attacking and de- 
stroying these creatures with that energy that is exhib- 
ited by the inhabitants of our own country. The 
consequence is, that the animals in their turn are less 
afraid of man, and often make him their prey. The 
alligators of the Magdalena — or ‘caimans,’ as they 
are there called — frequently destroy natives, who by 
any unlucky accident may have fallen into the waters 
frequented by them. Not unfrequently the boatmen 
{bogadores) who navigate the river Magdalena in their 
bogas^ or flat boats, drop overboard, and become the 
prey of the caimans, as sailors on the ocean do of 


72 


Ubc Hu^ian /IDotber anb daimau 


sharks. These boatmen sometimes carry rifles, for the 
purpose of shooting the caimans ; yet there are but 
few destroyed in this way, as the bogadores are too 
much occupied in navigating their crafts ; and, more- 
over, it is a very difficult thing to kill an alligator by 
a shot. You can only do it by sending the bullet into 
his eye, as the rest of his body is impervious even to 
a musket-ball. Of course to hit one in the eye requires 
a sure aim, and a good opportunity when the animal 
is lying still upon the bank or on the water. When 
out of the water a caiman may be shot in the soft 
elastic skin behind the fore-shoulder ; but this is a 
very uncertain method of killing one ; and several shots 
fired into his body at this part will often fail to prove 
fatal. Sometimes the natives of the Magdalena catch 
the caimans with lassos ; and after dragging them 
upon the bank, despatch them with axes and spears. 
Notwithstanding this, the caimans swarm upon these 
rivers, and are seldom molested by the inhabitants, 
except at intervals when some horrid tragedy happens 
— when some unfortunate victim has been snatched 
off by them, torn in pieces, and devoured. When this 
occurs, the people, sympathising with the distress of 
their neighbour, awake from their habitual apathy, 
collect together, and destroy great numbers of these 
hideous reptiles. The story I have promised you illus- 
trates an affair of this kind. 

“ A vaquero (cattle-herd) lived upon the Magdalena, 
73 


Ube 1F3unter5 


some miles above the city of New Cartliageha. His 
palm-thatched rancho^ or cottage, stood at a little dis- 
tance from the bank of the river, at a point where it 
was much infested by caimans — as the country around 
was wild and thinly settled. The vaquero had a wife 
and one child, a daughter — who was about six or seven 
years old ; and being a pretty little girl, and the only 
one, she was of course very dear to both the parents. 

“The vaquero was often absent from home — his 
business with his cattle carrying him to a great dis- 
tance into the woods. But his wife thought nothing 
of being thus left alone. She was an Indian woman, 
and used to dangers, such as would terrify the females 
that live in great cities. 

“ One day when her husband was absent as usual, 
looking after his cattle, this woman took some clothes 
to the river bank for the purpose of washing them. 
The river was the only water near the rancho ; and by 
thus carrying the clothes to it, she saved herself the 
trouble of fetching the water a good way ; besides, 
there was a broad, smooth stone by the bank, where 
she was accustomed to beat out her linen. Her 
little daughter accompanied her, carrying one of the 
bundles. 

‘ ‘ On reaching the spot, the woman filled her vessels 
with water, and commenced her work ; while the child, 
having nothing else to occupy her, began to gather 
some ripe guavas, plucking them from a tree that grew 

74 


tlbe Unbian /IDotber anb daiman 


out from the bank, and hung somewhat over the river. 
While the Indian mother was thus engaged, she was 
startled by a wild scream and a plunge, that were 
heard almost together ; and, on looking round, she saw 
her child just sinking in the water. At the same time 
she beheld a hideous object — a huge caiman — making 
for the spot ! Filled with horror, the woman dropped 
her linen, and rushed out upon the bank. She did not 
hesitate a moment, but plunged into the river, which 
buried her to the neck. At that moment the child rose 
again to the surface. The mother seized her by the 
arms ; and was about raising her out of the water, 
when the caiman swept forward open-mouthed, caught 
the limbs of the little girl, and with one crunch of his 
powerful jaws severed them from the body ! The 
little girl screamed again ; but it was her last scream. 
When the mother struggled to the shore, and laid the 
mutilated body upon the bank, the child had ceased 
to breathe. 

“ For some moments sat the wretched mother, gaz- 
ing upon the still quivering remains. At intervals she 
stooped down and kissed the pale, withering lips. She 
did not weep. I have said she was an Indian. They 
do not act as whites do ; but, anyhow, her anguish 
was too keen to allow her tears to flow. She did not 
scream or call for help. It could be of no use now. It 
was too late. She knew there was no one near — no 
one within miles of her. When she raised her eyes 


75 


tlbe 360^ IfDunter^ 


from the mangled corpse, it was only to rest them upon 
the black water, and there, under the shadow of the 
guava bushes, swam the hideous reptile, to and fro. 
He had swallowed the morsel, and was eagerly watch- 
ing for more. 

‘ ‘ The countenance of the woman betrayed a min- 
gled expression of agony and vengeance. All at once 
a thought seemed to strike her — a sudden resolve. She 
rose ; and casting a look first at the dead body, and 
then upon the caiman, hurried off to the house. In a 
few minutes she came back, bringing with her a long 
spear. It was the hunting-spear of her husband — 
often used by him in his encounters with the Brazilian 
tiger, and other fierce creatures of the forest. She 
brought also several other articles — a lasso, some cords 
of the pita, and a couple of knives. 

“On arriving on the bank, she looked anxiously 
over. The caiman was still there ; and she turned, 
and stood for a moment as if considering what to do. 
Her mind was soon made up ; and, bending forward, 
she thrust the spear lengthwise through what remained 
of her child’s body ! It was a fearful act, but the feel- 
ing of revenge was strong within her. She next caught 
the blade of the spear — now red with blood — and plac- 
ing the knives lengthwise — so that they might serve as 
barbs — tied them firmly upon it with the pita cord. 
Close up to thei^e she pushed the mangled body, and 
then looped the lasso tightly to the shaft of the spear. 

76 


Ube irnbian /Ibotber anb Caiman 


The other end she made fast to the trunk of a guava 
tree — for she well knew that her own strength would 
avail but little against such a monster as the caiman. 

“When all was ready she poised the shaft, and 
flung the spear, body and all, into the water. Then 
taking the rope in her hand, she crouched behind the 
bushes to await the result. 

“She had not long to wait. The reptile, thirsting 
for more blood, saw the tempting morsel ; and, dart- 
ing forward, seized it in his huge jaws, crushing it in 
the act. The woman remained motionless, biding her 
time. 

“The caimans do not masticate their food. Their 
teeth are not formed for that. They are only made for 
seizing ; and the tongue — which they cannot extend 
forward — only serves to assist them in swallowing. 
In a few moments the body had disappeared down 
the capacious throat of the monster. Seeing this, the 
woman suddenly sprang to her feet, and dragged vio- 
lently upon the rope, and the next moment a wild 
scream announced that she had succeeded in her inten- 
tions. The barbed blades had taken hold, and the 
caiman was secured ! 

“ Finding himself thus caught, the huge reptile dived 
to the bottom, then rose again, bellowing loudly, and 
lashing the water into foam, the blood all the while run- 
ning from his jaws and nostrils. At intervals, he would 
rush from point to point — until suddenly checked by the 

77 


Ube Ibunters 


strong raw-hide laSvSo — making the tree shake with 
his great strength ; and this he did for a long while. 
His struggles at length grew fainter, and more feeble, 
and he lay motionless in the water. Throughout all 
this scene the mother sat upon the bank of the river, 
at times in deep silence and dejected, while at intervals 
her face would light up with a vengeful expression as 
she cast her eyes upon the monster that had robbed 
her of her child. 

“ At length the gallop of a horse roused her from 
her reverie. She looked around. It was her husband ! 

‘ ‘ The melancholy tale was soon told ; and shortly 
after was carried to those that dwelt nearest them. 
The grief was general ; and the sympathy that fol- 
lowed caused a general rising throughout the neigh- 
bourhood ; and for several days afterwards a war of 
extermination was waged against the caimans. 

“ This, brothers,” said Tncien, “ is a true narrative ; 
and, in fact, it is only a year or two since the painful 
incident occurred’.” 

“And a painful incident it was,” cried Basil, with 
some excitement. “Thunder! it makes one hate 
those monsters so. I feel like having a shot at one 
this very moment ; besides I want a tooth for a powder- 
charger ” ; and as he said this, he took up his rifle, and 
stepped out to the water’s edge. None of the alliga- 
tors appeared to be within range at the moment, though 
dozens of them were seen moving about on the bayou. 

78 


Ubc Hubtan /IDotber anb Caiman 


“Hold, brother!” shouted Francois. “Have 
patience a little, and I ’ll bring them near enough. 
Place yourself in ambush, while I call them.” 

Now one of Francois’ accomplishments was an un- 
usual talent for mimicry. He could imitate every- 
thing, from the crowing of a cock to the bellowing of 
a bull, and so naturally as to deceive even the animals 
themselves. Running down towards the bank, he 
crouched behind some yucca bushes, and commenced 
whining and barking like a young puppy. Basil also 
concealed himself among the bushes. 

In a few seconds, several alligators were seen swim- 
ming over the bayou, coming from all sides at once. 
They were not long in reaching the bank where Fran- 
cois lay concealed, and foremost of all a large male, 
throwing up his snout, crawled out of the water. He 
was calculating, no doubt, on making a meal of some- 
thing ; but was doomed to disappointment, and worse 
than that, for the sharp crack of Basil’s rifle rang upon 
the air, and the hideous reptile rolled over in the mud ; 
and, after sprawling about for a while, lay motionless. 
He was quite dead, as the well-aimed rifle had sent a 
bullet right into his eye. 

Basil and Francois now showed themselves — as they 
did not care to waste their ammunition by shooting any 
more— and the rest of the alligators, seeing them, swam 
off faster than they had come. By the aid of Rucien’s 
hatchet, the largest teeth were knocked out of the jaws 

79 


tlbe Bos Ibunters 


of the one that had been killed ; and the horrid carcass 
was left where it lay, to feed the wolves and vultures, 
or anything else that chose to make a meal of it. 

After cooking a pot of coffee and a venison steak 
for supper, our adventurers spread their buffalo robes 
within the tent, and went to rest for the night. 

Next morning they were astir by daybreak ; and 
after breakfasting heartily, they saddled their korses, 
and resumed their journey. 


8o 


CHAPTER X. 


th:^ food of thf sidkworm. 

FTER leaving Bayou Crocodile, our young Imn- 



ters travelled due west, over the prairies of 
Opelousas. They did not expect to fall in with buffalo 
on these great meadows. No. The bison had long 
since forsaken the pastures of Opelousas, and gone far 
westward. In his place thousands of long-horned 
cattle roamed over these plains ; but these, although 
wild enough, belonged to owners, and were all marked 
and tended by mounted herdsmen. There were white 
settlements upon the prairies of Opelousas, but our ad- 
venturers did not go out of their way to visit them. 
Their purpose was to get far beyond ; and they did not 
wish to lose time. 

They crossed numerous bayous and rivers, generally 
running southward into the Mexican Gulf. The shal- 
low ones they forded, while those that were too deep 
for fording, they swam over upon their horses. They 
thought nothing of that — for their horses, as well as 
the mule Jeanette and the dog Marengo, were all 
trained to swim like fishes. 


6 


8i 


Ubc :lBo^ 1bunter5 


After many days’ travel they reached the banks of 
the river Sabine, v^hich divides I^ouisiana from Texas, 
then a part of the Mexican territory. The face of the 
country was here very different from most of that they 
had passed over. It was more hilly and upland ; and 
the vegetation had altogether changed. The great 
dark cypress had disappeared, and pines were more 
abundant. The forests were lighter and more open. 

There was a freshet in the Sabine ; but they swam 
across it, as they had done other rivers, and halted to 
encamp upon its western bank. It was still only a 
little after noon, but as they had w^et their baggage in 
crossing, they resolved to remain by the river for the rest 
of the day. They made their camp in an open space in 
the midst of a grove of low trees. There were many open 
spaces, for the trees stood wide apart, and the grove 
looked very much like a deserted orchard. Here and 
there a tall magnolia raised its cone-shaped summit 
high above the rest, and a huge trunk of one of these, 
without leaves or branches, appeared at some distance, 
standing like an old ruined tower. 

The ground was covered with flowers of many kinds. 
There were blue lupins and golden helianthi. There 
were malvas and purple monardas, and flowers of the 
cotton-rose, five inches in diameter. There were blos- 
soms of vines, and creeping plants, that twined around 
the trees, or stretched in festoons from one to another — 
the cane- vine with its white clusters, and the raccoon 
82 


XTbe ffoob of tbe Silbworm 


grape, whose sweet odours perfumed the air ; but by far 
the most showy were the large blossoms of the bignonia, 
that covered the festoons with their trumpet-shaped 
corollas, exhibiting broad surfaces of bright scarlet. 

In the midst of these flowers our hunters pitched 
camp, picketing their animals, and putting uj) their 
tent as usual. 

The sun was shining brightly, and they proceeded to 
spread their wet robes and blankets. 

“ It strikes me, ” said Lucien, after they had com- 
pleted their arrangements for camping, “ that we have 
halted on the site of an old Indian town.” 

‘ ‘ Why do you think so ? ” asked Basil. 

“ Why, I notice these heaps of rubbish here that are 
covered with weeds and briars. They are Indian 
graves, or piles of decayed logs where houses once 
stood. I can tell from the trees, too. Took around ! 
do you see anything peculiar in these trees ? ’ ’ 

“ Nothing,” replied Basil and Francois together. 
“Nothing, except that they are mostly small and 
low.” 

“ Do you not observe anything odd in their species ? ’ ’ 

“ No,” said Basil. “ I think I have seen them all be- 
fore. There are mulberry-trees, and black walnuts, and 
Chicasaw plums, and pawpaws, and Osage oranges, 
and shell-bark hickories, and pecans, and honey-locusts. 
I see no others except vines, and those great magnolias. 
I have seen all these trees before.” 

83 


Zbc :iBo^ ibunters 


“Yes/’ returned Lucien, “but have you ever ob- 
served them all growing together in this way ? ” 

“ Ah ! that is a different affair : I believe not.” 

“Because it is from that fact,” continued Lucien, 
“ that I am led to believe this spot was once the seat 
of an Indian settlement. These trees, or othets that 
produced them have been planted here, and by the 
Indians.” 

“ But, brother Luce,” interposed Francois. “ I 
never heard that the Indians of these parts made such 
settlements as this must have been. These low woods 
extend down the river for miles. They must have had 
a large tract under cultivation.” 

“I think,” replied Lucien, “the Indians who at 
present inhabit this region never planted these trees. 
It is more likely a settlement of the ancient nation of 
the Natchez.” 

“The Natchez ! Why, that is the name of a town 
on the Mississippi, but I did not know there were 
Indians of that name.” 

“ Neither are there now ; but there once was a very 
extensive tribe so called who occupied the whole terri- 
tory of Louisiana. It is said that, like the Mexicans 
and Peruvians, they had made some progress in civilisa- 
tion, and knew how to weave cloth and cultivate the 
soil. They are now an extinct race.” 

‘ ‘ How came that about ? ’ ’ 

“ No one can tell. Some of the old Spanish authors 
84 


trbe JFoob of tbe StUsworin 


say that they were destroyed by Indians from South 
America. This story, however, is very absurd — as is, 
indeed, most of what has been wTitten by these same 
old Spanish authors, whose books read more like the 
productions of children than of reasoning men. It is 
far more likely that the Natchez were conquered by 
the Creeks and Chicasaws, who came from the south- 
west of their country ; and that the remnant of their 
tribe became blended with and lost among the con- 
querors. In my opinion, this is how they have come 
to be extinct. Why, then, should not this be one of 
their ancient settlements, and these trees the remains 
of their orchards, cultivated by them for their fruits 
and other uses ? ” 

“But we make but little use of such trees,” re- 
marked Francois. 

“ What ’s that you say ? ” exclaimed Basil. “ You, 
Francois, who every year eat such quantities of shell- 
bark nuts, and pecans, and red mulberries, too ! — you 
who suck persimmons like a ’possum ! — no use, eh?” 

“Well, that’s true enough,” rejoined Francois, 
“but still we do not cultivate these trees for their 
fruits — we find them in the woods, growing naturally.” • 

“Because,” interrupted Fucien, “we have the ad- 
vantage of the Indians. We understand commerce, 
and get other and better sorts of fruits from all parts 
of the world. We have cereals, too, such as wheat 
and rice, and many kinds which they had not ; we can 

85 


TTbe Ibunters 


therefore do without these trees. With the Indians 
it was different. It is true they had the Indian corn 
or maize- plant {Zea maiz), but, like other people, they 
were fond of variety ; and these trees afforded them 
that. The Indian nations who lived within the tropics 
had variety enough. In fact, no people without com- 
merce could have been better off in regard to fruit- 
bearing plants and trees than the Aztecs, and other 
tribes of the South. The Natchez, however, and those 
in the temperate zone, had their trees and plants as 
well — such as those we see before us — and from these 
they drew both necessary food, and luxurious fruits 
and beverages. Indeed, the early colonists did the 
same ; and many settlers in remote places make use to 
this day of these spontaneous productions of Nature. ’ ’ 

“ Would it not be interesting, Basil,” said Trangois, 
appealing to his elder brother, ‘ ‘ if Tucien would give 
a botanical description of all these trees, and tell us 
their uses? He knows all that.” 

“Yes,” replied Basil, ” I should like to hear it.” 

“That I shall do wdth pleasure,” said lyucien. 
“Not, however, a botanical description, according to 
the sense of the Tinnean school, as that would weary 
you soon enough, without adding much to your stock 
of information. I shall only state what I know of their 
properties and uses ; and I may remark that there is 
not a tree or plant that is not intended for some use in 
the economy of Nature. If botanists had spent their 
86 


Ube ffoob of tbe Silbworm 


time ill trying to discover these uses, instead of wasting 
it in idle classifications, mankind would have been 
more enriched by their J^bours. 

“ Let us begin, then, with the mulberry-tree, as 
there are many of them growing around. Were I to 
tell you all about this valuable tree, I should occupy a 
day or more. I shall only state those facts about it 
that are most interesting. 

The mulberry-trees form the genus Morus — for this 
was the name by which they w*ere known to the ancient 
Greeks. Of this genus there are several well-known 
species. No doubt there may be other species growing 
in wild countries, and yet unknown or undescribed by 
botanists ; and this remark applies as well to other 
trees, for every day we hear of new varieties being 
discovered by enterprising explorers. 

“ First, then, comes the white mulberry (Morus alba). 
It is the most important species yet known. This you 
will readily admit when I tell 3^ou that from it conies 
all our silk — spun out of it by the silkworm (Bombyx 
mori ) . It is called white mulberry on account of the 
colour of its fruit, which, however, is not always 
white, but sometimes of a purple or black colour. 
Now it would be difiicult to give an exact description 
of a white mulberry-tree ; for, like the apple and pear 
trees, there are many varieties of it produced from the 
same seeds, and also by difference of soil and climate. 
It is a small tree, however, rarely growing over forty 

87 


Ube IfDunters 


feet high, with thick leaves and numerous branches. 
The leaves are the most important part of it — for it is 
upon these thfe silkworms feed, spinning their fine 
threads out of the milky juice, which in its properties 
resembles the juice of the caoutchouc tree. It is true 
’ that the silkworm will feed upon the other species of 
mulberries, and also upon slippery elms, figs, lettuce, 
beets, endive, and many kinds of leaves besides ; but 
the silk made from all these is of an inferior quality ; 
and even the varieties of the white mulberry itself 
produce different qualities of this beautiful material. 

“ This tree has other uses. Its wood is compact and 
heavy, weighing forty-four pounds to the cubic foot. 
In France it is much used in turnery ; and wine-casks 
are made from it, as it gives to white wines an agree- 
able flavour of violets. Vine-props and fences are 
made from its branches ; and out of its bark — by a 
process which I have not time to describe — a cloth can 
be manufactured almost as fine as silk itself. The fruit 
of the white mulberry — where it grows in warm climates 
— is very good to eat, and makes an excellent syrup. 

“The white mulberry, it is supposed, first came 
from China, where it is still found growing wild ; and 
the Chinese first cultivated it for feeding silkworms as 
early as 2700 years before the Christian era. The tree 
is now found in every civilised country, growing either 
as an ornament of the shrubbery, or for the manu- 
facture of silk. 


88 


Ube jfoob of tbe Silkworm 


“The next species is the black mulberry (Morns 
nigra) ^ so called on account of the colour of its fruit, 
which is of a dark purple, nearly black. This kind 
came originally from Persia, but is now, like the white 
mulberry, found in all civilised countries. It is culti- 
vated more for ornament and shade than for feeding 
silkworms ; though it is put to this use in some parts, 
especially in cold climates, where the other species does 
not thrive. They are easily distinguished from each 
other — the bark of the black being much rougher and 
darker. The wood of the latter is not so firm nor 
heavy as the white, but it is also durable, and is used 
in England for hoops, wheels, and ribs of small vessels. 
In Spain, Italy, and Persia they prefer the leaves of 
the black for feeding the silkworm. They are also 
eaten by cattle, sheep, and goats. The roots when 
prepared are used as a vermifuge. The fruit has a 
pleasant aromatic taste ; and is eaten both raw and in 
preserves, or mixed with cider makes an agreeable 
drink. The Greeks distil a clear weak brandy out of 
them ; and in France they make a wine from these 
mulberries — which must be drunk while it is new, as 
it soon turns to vinegar. This fruit is good for fevers 
and rheumatisms ; and is much sought after by birds 
and all kinds of poultry, who devour it greedily. 

“So much for the white and black mulberry-tree. 
We now come to the third species, the red (Morns 
rubra). 


8g 


Ubc Ibunters 


“That is the red before 3^our face,” continued 
lyucien, pointing to the trees, which he had already 
devsignated. “It is so called from the fruit, which, 
as you know, are of a dark red colour, and resemble 
red raspberries more than anything in the world. 
Some of these trees, you see, are nearly seventy feet 
in height, though it usually does not reach so high. 
You notice the leaves. They are heart-shaped, many 
of them ten inches long, and nearly as broad as long. 
They are dark green and rough, and for feeding the 
silkworm quite useless where the white mulberry grows. 
They form a delightful shade, however ; and this is 
one of the uses of this beautiful tree. The fruit, too, 
is, in my opinion — and I think Francois will agree 
with me — quite equal to the best raspberries. As for 
the wood, it is much used in the dockyards of the 
Southern States. It is of a pale lemon colour ; and is 
considered more durable for trenails than any other — 
that of the locust excepted. 

“ The red mulberry, like the white and black species, 
runs into several varieties differing considerably from 
each other. 

“There is still a fourth species of this genus, called 
the paper mulberry (Morus papyriferd). This, how- 
ever, has been separated by botanists into another 
genus ; but it is worth a word here, as it is a very 
curious and valuable tree, or, rather, a large shrub, 
for it does not grow so tall as either of the other three. 


90 


Ube ifoob of tbe Sitfjworm 


It is a native of China, Japan, and the islands of the 
Pacific Ocean ; but, like the others, it is cultivated for 
ornament both in Europe and America. Its fruit, 
which is of a scarlet colour, is globe-shaped, and not 
oblong, as that of the true mulberries ; and this is 
one reason why it has been separated into a genus by 
itself. Its leaves are of no use for silk-making, but they 
make excellent food for cattle,; and as the tree grows 
rapidly, and carries such large bunches of leaves, some 
people have said that it would yield better than grass, 
and should be cultivated for pasture. I do not know 
whether this has been tried yet. The most interesting 
part of the paper mulberry is its bark, which is used 
in the manufacture of paper both in China and Japan. 
The beautiful India paper used for engravings is made 
from it, and so, too, is the fine white cloth worn b}^ 
the natives of the Society" Islands, and which so much 
astonished Europeans when they first saw it. It would 
be interesting to detail the process of manufacturing 
this cloth as well as the paper, but it would take up 
too much of our time at present. 

“There is another genus of trees which resembles 
the mulberries very much. They are valuable for 
their wood, which produces a fine yellow dye, known 
by the name of ‘ fustic-wood.’ The tree that produces 
the best of this dye is the Morus tincioria^ and grows 
in the West Indies and tropical America ; but there is 
a species found in the Southern United States, of an 
91 


tEfje 3Bog Ibunters 


inferior kind, which produces the ‘ bastard fustic ’ of 
commerce. 

“So much, then, for the mulberry-tree; but I fear, 
brothers, I have left but little time to describe the 
others. ’ ’ 

“Oh! plenty of time,” said Basil; “we have 
nothing else to do. We are better learning from you 
than rambling idly about ; and upon my word, I^uce, 
you make me begin to take an interest in botany.” 

“Well, I am glad of that,” rejoined lyucien, “for 
I hold it to be a science productive of much good, not 
only on account of its utilit}^ in the arts and manufac- 
tures, but to the mind of the student himself ; for, in 
my belief, it has a refining influence.” 

And I^ucien was about to continue his description 
of the trees, when a series of incidents occurred which 
put an end to the conversation, at least upon that 
subject. 

These incidents are recorded in the chapter which 
follows. 


92 


CHAPTER XI. 


THE) CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION. 



IRECTLY in front of the tent, and at no great 


distance from it, a thick network of vines 


stretched between two trees. These trees were large 
tupelos, and the vines, clinging from trunk to trunk 
and to one another, formed an impenetrable screen 
with their dark green leaves. Over the leaves grew 
flowers, so thickly as almost to hide them — the whole 
surface shining as if a bright carpet had been spread 
from tree to tree and hung down between them. The 
flowers were of different colours. Some were white 
and starlike, but the greater numbers were the large 
scarlet cups of the trumpet- vine (bignonid). 

Francois, although listening to his brother, had for 
some time kept his eyes in that direction, as if admir- 
ing the flowers. All at once, interrupting the conver- 
sation, he exclaimed, — 

“ Voilci ! look yonder — humming-birds ! ” 

Now the sight of humming-birds is not so common 
in America as travellers would have you believe. 
Even in Mexico, where the species are numerous. 


93 


Ube IF^unters 


you will not see them every day. Indeed, you may 
not notice them at all, unless you are specially look- 
ing for them. They are such small creatures, and fly 
so nimbly — darting from flower to flower and tree to 
tree — that you may pass along without observing 
them, or perhaps- mistake them for bees. In the 
United States, however, where only one species has 
yet been noticed, the sight is a rare one, and generally 
interesting to those who witness it. Hence Francois’ 
exclamation was one of surprise and pleasure. 

“Where are they ? “ inquired Uucien, starting up in 
an interested manner. 

“Yonder,” replied Francois, “by the trumpet-flow- 
ers. I see several, I think.” 

“Softly, brothers,” said Lucien ; “approach them 
gently, so as not to frighten them off — I wish to make 
some observations upon them.” 

As Uucien said this, he walked cautiously forward, 
followed by Basil and Francois. 

“Ah!” exclaimed Uucien, as they drew near, “I 
see one now. It is the ruby-throat {Trochilus colubris). 
He is feeding on the bignonias. They are fonder of 
them than any other blossoms. See ! he has gone up 
into the funnel of the flower. Ha 1 he is out again, 
lyisten to his whirring wings, like the hum of a great 
bee. It is from that he takes his name of ‘ humming- 
bird.’ See his throat, how it glitters — just like a 
ruby!” 


94 



A LINK IN THE CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION 





trbe Chain of destruction 


“Another!” cried Francois; “look above I It 
is not near so pretty as the first. Is it a different 
species ? ’ ’ 

“No,” replied Fucien, “it is the female of the 
same ; but its colour is not so bright, and you may 
notice that it wants the ruby throat.” 

“ I see no others,” said Francois, after a pause. 

“ I think there are but the two,” remarked Fucien, 
“ a male and female. It is their breeding season. No 
doubt their nest is near.” 

“Shall we try to catch them?” inquired Francois. 

“ That we could not do, unless we had a net.” 

“ I can shoot them with small shot.” 

“No, no,” said Fucien, “the smallest would tear 
them to pieces. They are sometimes shot with poppy- 
seeds, and sometimes with water. But never mind, I 
would rather observe them a bit as they are. I want 
to satisfy myself upon a point. You may look for the 
nest, as you have good eyes. You will find it near 
— in some naked fork, but not among the twigs or 
leaves.” 

Basil and Frangois set about looking for the nest, 
while Fucien continued to watch the evolutions of 
the tiny little creatures. The “point” upon which 
our young naturalist wished to be satisfied was, 
whether the humming-birds eat insects as well as 
Poney — a point which has been debated among orni- 
thologists. 


95 


Ube ibunters 


As lie stood watching them a large humble-bee 
(Apis bombylicus') came whizzing along, and settled in 
one of the flowers. Its feet had scarcely touched the 
bright petals, when the male ruby-throat darted 
towards it, and attacked it like a little fury. Both 
came out of the flower together, carrying on their 
miniature battle as they flew ; but, after a short con- 
test, the bee turned tail, and flew off with an angry- 
like buzz, — no doubt, occasioned by the plying of his 
wings more rapidly in flight. 

A shout from Frangois now told that the nest was 
discovered. There it was, in the fork of a low branch, 
but without eggs as yet — else the birds would not both 
have been abroad. The nest was examined by all 
three, though they did not disturb it from its position. 
It was built of fine threads of Spanish moss ( Tilland- 
sid), with which it was tied to the branch ; and it was 
lined inside with the silken down of the anemone. 
It was a semi-sphere, open at the top, and but one 
inch in diameter. In fact, so small was the whole 
structure, that any one but the sharp-eyed, bird-catch- 
ing, nest-seeking Francois, would have taken it for a 
knob on the bark of the tree. 

All three now returned to watch the manoeuvres of 
the birds, that, not having seen them by the nest, still 
continued playing among the flowers. The boys stole 
as near as possible, keeping behind a large bunch of 
hanging vines. Tucien was nearest, and his face was 

96 


XTbe Cbain of destruction 


within a few feet of the little creatures, so that he could 
observe every motion they made. He was soon grati- 
fied with a sight that determined his “ point ” for him. 
A swarm of small blue- winged flies attracted his atten- 
tion. They were among the blossoms, sometimes 
resting upon them, and sometimes flitting about from 
one to another. He saw the birds several times dash 
at them with open bills, and pick them from their 
perch ; so the question was decided — the humming- 
birds were insect-eaters. 

After a while the female flew off to her nest, leaving 
the male still among the flowers. 

The curiosity of the boys was now satisfied, and 
they were about to return to the tent, when Tucien 
suddenly made a motion, whispering the others to 
remain silent. Francois first caught sight of the ob- 
ject which had caused this behaviour on the part of 
his brother, and then Basil saw it. A hideous object 
it was ! 

Crouching among the leaves, now crawling side- 
ways, now making short springs, and then hiding 
itself, went a fearful-looking creature. It was about 
the size of one of the birds, but far different in appear- 
ance. Its body consisted of two pieces, joined about 
the middle, and covered all over with a reddish-brown 
wool or hair, that stood upright like bristles. It had 
ten limbs — long, crooked, and covered with hair, like 
the body — two curved claw-like antennae or feelers in 


Ubc Ibunters 


front, and two horns projecting behind, so that, but 
for the sharp fiery e 3 'es of the creature, it would have 
been difficult to tell its head from its hinder part. Its 
rusty colour, its ill-shaped body, and hairy legs, com- 
bined with the piercing look from its eyes, gave it a 
most vicious appearance, such as belongs, less or more, 
to all of its race — for it was of the race Aranea, or 
spiders. 

'' Tho: leaping tarantula 1^' whispered Lucien to his 
brothers. “ See,” he continued, ” it is after the ruby- 
throat ! ” 

This was evident. Step by step, and leap after leap, 
it w^as approaching the cluster of blossoms where the 
humming-bird was at the moment engaged. Its eyes 
were bent eagerly upon the latter ; and whenever it 
flew up from the flowers and whirred idly about, the 
tarantula squatted itself closely, hiding behind the 
leaves or shanks of the vines. On the other hand, 
when the bird settled a moment and appeared busily 
feeding, the skulking creature would advance a stage 
nearer, either by a quick run or a leap, when it would 
again conceal itself and await a fresh opportunity. 
As the bird flitted about a good deal, the spider had 
frequently to change its direction in following. The 
former after one of its short flights, settled into a trum- 
pet-flower directly in front of where the latter lay 
crouching. It did not enter the cup of the flower, but 
remained at the mouth — poised upon its whirring 
98 


Ubc Cbain ot destruction 


wings — while with its long prehensile tongue it drew 
out the honey. It had scarcely been a moment in this 
position, when the tarantula sprang forward and 
clutched it round the body with his antennae. The 
bird, with a wild chirrup, like that of a distressed 
cricket, flew outward and upwards. Its wings were 
still free, and all expected it would carry off the spider 
that was now seen clinging around it. Not so, how- 
ever. On getting a few feet from the flower its flight 
appeared to be suddenly checked ; and, although it 
still kept in the air, flying first one way and then 
another, it was evident that something restrained it 
from getting clear off. On looking more attentively a 
fine silk-like line was seen stretching from the trees to 
the fluttering creature. It was the thread of the spider, 
and this it was that prevented his victim from carrying 
him into the air. 

The little wings soon ceased to move, and both bird 
and spider fell to the end of the thread, where they 
hung for a moment suspended. The boys could see 
that the bird was dead, and the mandibles of the 
tarantula were buried in its shining throat ! 

Francois would have rushed forward to kill the 
destroyer ; but Lucien, who was too ardent a naturalist 
to have his lesson thus interrupted, restrained his 
more impetuous brother, and all three remained quiet 
as before. 

The tarantula now commenced reeling in his line, 


99 


TLbc IFDunters 


for the purpose of carrying his prey up among the 
branches, where he had his nest. The boj^s looked 
upward to discover the latter. There, sure enough, 
was the web, in a shaded corner, stretching its meshes 
from a large liana to the trunk of the tupelo ; and 
towards this point the spider now slowly progressed 
with his lifeless victim. 

As they watched his motions, their eyes were caught 
by a shining object that moved along the wrinkled 
bark of the liana. As the vine was nearly a foot in 
diameter, and of a deep ferruginous colour, this object 
was the more apparent against its dark ground, for 
it was a creature of brilliant hues. It was an animal 
of the lizard species ; and if any lizard could be con- 
sidered beautiful, this one might have been so called. 
But the hideous, half-human form of these animals, 
their piercing looks, their stealthy and predatory 
habits, and, above all, the knowledge that the bite of 
several of their species is poisonous, combine to render 
them objects that excite disgust and awe, rather than 
admiration. 

This one, as we have already said, was of the most 
brilliant colour. The whole of its upper surface was a 
golden green, vivid as the hues of an emerald ; while 
its body underneath was greenish white. But this part, 
as it lay along the liana, was not seen ; and a pure, 
uniform green was the apparent colour of the whole 
animal. There was one conspicuous exception — the 


lOO 


tlbe Cbatn of ©estructtort 


throat. This was swollen out, as though by inflation, 
exhibiting a surface of the brightest scarlet, that ap- 
peared in the sun as if painted with vermilion. The 
eyes of the animal shone like flame — for the irides were, 
in fact, the colour of burnished gold, with small pupils, 
sparkling like diamonds, in their midst. Its arms and 
limbs were of the same colour as the body ; and its 
branching feet exhibited the peculiarity of having small 
knots or tubercules at the ends of the toes. These 
tubercules, together with the loose dewlap of the 
throat, told the genus to which the animal belonged, — 
an anolius of the family IguanidcB^ and the only species 
of the anolius found in the territory of the United 
States. 

These facts were communicated by Uucien to his 
brothers in a whisper, while they were observing the 
creature on the liana. Basil and Francois had often 
seen the species before, and were familiar with it 
under the names of ‘ ‘ green lizard ’ ’ and ‘ ‘ chame- 
leon,” — both of which names are applied to it in 
common phraseology. The animal was not over six 
inches in length ; and its long, coffin-shaped head 
and slender, whip-like tail, were at least two-thirds of 
this extent. When first noticed, it was passing up the 
liana, for the latter slanted upwards between the trees. 
It did not see the boys ; or, at all events, did not re- 
gard their presence — for the chameleon is a bold little 
animal, and is not afraid of man. Up to this time it 


lOI 


trbe JSo^ 1buntet5 


had not seen the tarantula either. As it was passing 
onward, its eyes fell upon the latter as he climbed up 
his silken ladder. All at once the lizard stopped, and 
put itself into a crouching attitude. Its colour sud- 
denly changed. The vermilion throat became white, 
and then ashy pale ; and the bright green of its body 
faded into a dark brown or rust colour, until it was 
difficult to distinguish the animal from the bark of the 
liana ! Had the eyes of the spectators not been al- 
ready fixed upon it, they might have supposed that it 
had disappeared altogether. After crouching for a few 
seconds, it seemed to have formed its plan of attack — 
for it was evident that it meant to attack the spider — 
such, with flies and other insects, being its natural 
food and prey. It passed to the opposite side of the 
liana, and then proceeded upward, making for the nest 
of the tarantula. It reached this point by a single 
run, although its back was downward as it crawled. 
This it could easily do by means of the tubercules 
upon its toes — which enable lizards of the genus 
anolius to walk upon perpendicular walls, up glass 
windows, or along the smoothest ceilings. 

For some moments it lay quiet in a crouching atti- 
tude, waiting the approach of the spider, that, busied 
with his own affairs, did not dream of a lurking foe 
so near him. The tarantula was, no doubt, in high 
spirits at the moment, exulting at the prospect of the 
banquet of blood he should have, when he had carried 


102 


XTbe Cbain of Destruction 


the ruby-throat to’ his dark, silken cave. But he was 
destined never to reach that cave. When he had got 
within a few inches of its entrance, the chameleon 
sprang out from the limb, seized the spider in his wide 
jaws, and all three — lizard, spider, and bird — came 
to the ground together. The bird was let go in the 
fall, and became separated from the others. Between 
these there was a short struggle over the grass — 

9 

for the tarantula fought fiercely ; but he was no 
match for his antagonist ; who, in a few moments, 
had ground off his legs with his powerful jaws, and 
left him a helpless and motionless trunk. The 
chameleon now seized his victim by the head, sunk 
his sharp, conical teeth into its skull, and thus 
killed it outright. 

What appeared singular to all was, that the moment 
the lizard had first sprung upon his prey his bright 
colours returned like a flash, and he again appeared 
with his green back and red throat, if possible more 
brilliant than ever. 

He now commenced dragging the body of the spider 
over the grass, evidently making for some decayed 
logs, half covered with vines and ^^riars, that formed 
a heap near the spot. Here, no Soubt, was his retreat. 

This time Francois did not attempt to interfere. He 
had no desire to do so. He looked upon the death of 
the tarantula as a just punishment ; moreover, the 
chameleon, from its fine colours, its sportive habits, 
103 


Zbc Ifounters 


and its harmlessness — so far as man is concerned — 
is a general favourite with all ; and it was so with 
Francois. In fact, Francois, as well as his brothers, 
who had often watched this little creature gambol- 
ling among the leaves, and feeding upon flies and 
other small insects, had never seen it exhibit so 
much ferocity before. Notwithstanding this they all 
applauded it for killing the hideous tarantula ; and so 
far as they were concerned, it might have carried the 
body to its hole without being molested. It* was 
destined, however, to meet with interruption from 
another quarter. Frangois, whose quick eyes were 
wandering about, suddenly exclaimed : 

“ hook — brothers, look ! A scorpion lizard ! ” 

Basil and Fucien cast their eyes where Francois 
pointed — up to the trunk of a tree that rose over the 
vSpot where the chameleon was crawling. About twenty 
feet from the ground was a dark, round hole, evi- 
dently the former nest of the red- bellied wookpecker 
{Picus Carolmus). The birds, however, who made 
that nest had deserted it ; for it was now occupied 
by a creature of a far different kind — a scorpion 
lizard — whose red head and brown shoulders at the 
moment protruded from the hole. 

All who have travelled the great American forests 
are familiar with such a sight — for this animal may 
be often observed in similar situations. A more dis- 
agreeable sight is rarely met with. The scorpion 
104 


Ube Cbain of Destruction 


lizard, with his red head and olive-brown body, is a 
hideous-looking reptile at best ; but when thus peering 
from his gloomy tree-cave, moving his pointed snout 
from side to side, his dark eyes glancing all the while 
with a fierce, malignant expression, it is difficult to 
conceive a more vicious-looking creature. 

His head was in motion when Francois spake — for it 
was this that had caught the eye of the boy. It was 
moving from side to side, protruded out from the hole, 
the snout pointing downwards. The animal was watch- 
ing the ground below, and evidently preparing to issue 
forth, and come down. The chameleon, rustling over 
the dead leaves, had attracted his attention. 

As quick as lightning his whole body appeared upon 
the tree, and lay flat along the bark, head downwards. 
Here he halted for a moment ; then, raising his shoul- 
ders, he ran nimbly down the trunk, and rushing out- 
wards, sprang upon the chameleon. The latter, thus 
suddenly attacked, dropped the spider ; and at first 
showed an intention of retreating. Had he done so 
the scorpion would have followed him no farther — as 
its only object in attacking him was to rob him of his 
prey. The chameleon, however, is a courageous little 
animal ; and seeing that his assailant was not much 
bigger than himself— for the animal in question was 
one of the smallest of the skink family — he turned 
again and showed fight. His throat swelled to its 
largest extent, and grew brighter than ever, 

105 


ZTbe Ibunters 


Both now stood facing each other, and about twelve 
inches apart, in threatening attitudes. Their e3^es 
sparkled ; their forked tongues shot forth; glittering 
in the sun ; and their heads at intervals rose and fell, 
in a manoeuvring manner, like a pair of pugilists 
‘ ‘ coming to the scratch ! ’ ’ 

After a short while they sprang at each other open- 
jawed ; wriggled over the ground a moment — their 
tails flying in the air — tlien separated, and again as- 
sumed their defiant attitudes, manoeuvring as before. 
In this manner they met and parted several times, 
neither seeming to have gained much advantage. 

The weakest part of the green lizard lies in his tail. 
So tender is this appendage that the slightest blow of a 
small switch will separate it from the body. The skink 
seemed to be aware of this fact, as he several times en- 
deavoured to get around his antagonist, or, in mili- 
tary phraseology, to “turn” him. It was evidently 
his intention to attack the tail. This the chameleon 
dreaded ; and was equally desirous not to be “ out- 
flanked.” In whatever way the skink manoeuvred, 
his antagonist met him with his scarlet front. 

Tor several minutes the battle raged — these little 
creatures exhibiting as much fury and fierceness as if 
they had been a pair of great crocodiles. The chame- 
leon at length began to show symptoms of giving out. 
The throat grew paler, the green became less vivid, 
and it was evident that he was getting the worst of it, 
loO 


tibe Chain of ©estcuction 


The scorpion now made a rush, and threw the other 
Upon his back. Before the chameleon could recover 
himself, his antagonist seized his tail, and bit it off 
close to the body. The poor little fellow, feeling that 
he had lost more than half his length, scuttled away, 
and hid himself among the logs. 

It was well for him, as it proved afterwards, that 
he got off, even thus mutilated ; and it would have 
been better for the skink had he remained in his hole. 
The battle between the two had carried them some dis- 
tance from the spot where it first commenced, and un- 
der the leafy, spreading branches of a mulberry-tree. 
While the fight was raging, a slight movement in the 
leaves above had attracted the attention of the boys. 
The next moment a red object was thrust downward, 
until a foot or so of it appeared hanging clear of 
the branches. It was about the thickness of a walk- 
ing-cane ; but the glistening scales and the elegant 
curving form told that this singular object was a 
serpent. 

It did not remain stationary. It was slowly and 
gradually letting itself down — for more of its body 
was every moment becoming visible, until a full yard 
of it hung out from the leaves. The remainder was 
hidden hy the thick foliage where its tail no doubt was 
coiled around a branch. That part of the body that 
was seen was of a uniform blood-red colour, though 
the belly or under side-was much the lightest. 

107 


Zbc 1buntei*5 


“ Vzo/^ / ” muttered Francois, /* what a red snake I 
I never saw such before. ’ ’ 

“ Nor I either,” added Basil. 

” Nor I,” said Lucien ; ” but I have heard of it. I 
easily recognise it from the description. It is the ‘ red 
snake of the Rocky Mountains (^Coluber testaced).' ” 

‘ ‘ Oh, ’ ’ said Basil, ‘ ‘ I have heard trappers speak of it. ” 
“Yes,” added Lucien. “It is a rare species, and 
only found in the Far West. See ! the scorpion has 
whipped. The chameleon is running off, and, as I 
live, without its tail ! ” 

The skink at this moment perceived the long, red 
body of the serpent dangling above him ; and knowing 
from experience a terrible enemy, ran off, endeavour- 
ing to hide himself in the grass. Instead of making 
for a tree — where he might have escaped by his su- 
perior nimbleness — his confusion and terror led him out 
into the open ground. The snake dropped from the 
mulberry and glided after, with his head raised high 
in the air, and his jaws wide open. In a second or two 
he overtook the lizard ; and striking forward and down- 
ward, killed it upon the spot. 

Lucien was in raptures with the interesting lesson 
he was receiving ; and again restrained Francois 
from rushing forward. They all, however, crept a 
little nearer — so as the better to observe the further 
movements of the serpent. They kept as well as 
possible behind the screen of leaves and bushes. 
io8 


XTbe dbatn of Bestructton 


The snake, after having killed the lizard, remained 
out in the open ground ; and, stretching himself along 
the grass, commenced devouring it. .Snakes do not 
masticate their food. Their teeth are riot formed for 
this, but only for seizing and killing^r The blood- 
snake is not venomous, and is, therefore, without 
fangs such as venomous snakes possess. In lieu of 
these he possesses a double row of sharp teeth ; and, 
like the “black .snake,” the “whip,” and others of 
the genus Coluber he is extremely swift, and possesses 
certain powers of constriction, which are mostly want- 
ing in serpents of the venomous tribes. Tike all the 
others, he swallows his prey just as he kills it — whole. 
So with the one in question. Having placed the nose 
of the lizard vis-a-vis with his own, he opened his jaws 
to their full extent, took in the head, and commenced 
gradually sucking the body down his throat. It was 
a curious operation ; and the boys watched it with 
feelings of interest. 

But other eyes were bent upon the reptile. His 
bright blood-coloured body lying along the grass had 
caught the far-seeing eye of an enemy, whose dark 
shadow was seen now moving over the ground. On 
looking up, the boys beheld a large bird wheeling in the 
air. Its snow-white head and breast, the far-spread, 
tapering wings, but, above all, the long forked tail, 
told them at a glance what bird it was. It was the 
great Southern kite ( Falco fur Cains'), 

109 


Ube Ibunters 


When first seen he was sailing in circles, — or rather 
in a spiral curve, that was constantly contracting 
downward and inward. The centre of that curve 
was the spot occupied by the snake. 

It was a beautiful sight to behold this creature cut- 
ting the thin air. His flight was the beau idial of 
ease and gracefulness — for in this no bird can equal 
the kite. Not a stroke of his long pointed wings be- 
trayed that he needed their assistance ; and he seemed 
to glory that he could navigate the air without them. 
Besides, the motion of these, had he used them, might 
have caught the e5^e of his intended victim, and warned 
it of the danger. I say it was a beautiful sight to 
watch him as he swam through his aery circles, at one 
moment appearing all white — as his breast was turned 
to the spectators — the next moment his black back and 
purple wings glittering in the sun, as sideways he 
guided himself down the spiral curve. It was a 
beautiful sight, and the young hunters stood gazing 
with silent admiration. 

Basil and Fran9ois wondered that he did not at once 
pounce upon the snake, for towards it his flight was 
evidently tending. They had seen other hawks do 
this — such as the red-tailed, the peregrine, and the 
osprey — which last sometimes shoots several hundred 
feet perpendicularly down upon its prey. Lucien, how- 
ever, knew better. He knew that that feat can be 
performed only by those hawks whose tails are full and 


no 


tube dbain ot destruction 


not forked, as the bald eagle, and the species already 
named — their spreading tails giving them the power to 
suddenly arrest the downward motion, and prevent 
•them from dashing themselves against the earth. The 
kites, on the other hand, have not that power ; and in 
this arrangement Lucien could perceive a beautiful 
adaptation of Nature — an equalising of advantages 
between these two kinds of birds. He reasoned thus : — 

The hawks, although swift of wing, and capable of 
extended flight, cannot remain long in the air. They 
grow weary ^and need rest, which the}^ take perching 
themselves upon some tree. It may be observed, more- 
over, that they choose dead trees that overlook an 
open space. They do so, in order that the leaves may 
not obstruct their vision — thus giving them a wider 
range, and, consequently, a better chance of espying 
their prey. But even with this advantage their chances 
of seeing their prey are circumscribed, when compared 
with that of hawks upon the wing ; and they are 
frequently compelled to take to the air in order to 
discover it. 

Now the kites are always in the air, or nearly so. 
They, in fact, live upon the wing, eating their food as 
they fly, from their claws. Hiving thus, they have 
many more chances of seeing their prey than their 
cousins of the hawk species ; and were they possessed 
of the power to pounce upon it with as much certainty 
as the latter do, it is evident they would have greatly 


III 


Ube Ibiinters 


the advantage. The want of that capability, however, 
brings them upon an equality ; and, as I have said, 
IvUcien perceived in this that peculiar equilibrium, or 
“ balance of power,” which constantly presents itself' 
to the student of nature. 

These thoughts passed through his mind at the 
moment. They occupied but a moment however — for 
it was but a few seconds from the time the kite was 
first noticed wheeling high in the air, until he swept 
along the tops of the low trees, so close that the boys 
could distinguish the red iris of his glistening eyes. , 

Now, for the first time, the snake caught sight of 
him. Hitherto it had been too much occupied with 
its own prey, which it had succeeded in swallowing. 
The shadow of the broad wings fell upon the sunlit 
sward directly before its eyes. It looked up, and saw 
its terrible enemy. It seemed to shiver through its 
whole length, and turn paler in colour. It struck its 
head into the grass, endeavouring to hide itself. It 
was too late. The kite swooped gently downward ; 
and, with open claw, poised himself a moment over 
the spot. As he rose again, the reptile was seen wrig- 
gling in his talons ! 

A few strokes of his bold wing carried the kite up- 
ward, above the tops of the tallest trees ; but he was 
observed to fly heavily. As he rose higher, the flap- 
ping of his wings became more hurried and irregular. 
It was evident that something was impeding his flight. 


112 


Ubc Cbain ot Destruction 


The snake was no longer hanging from his talons. 
The reptile had twined itself around his bodyj and 
its glistening folds, like red bands, could be seen half 
buried in the white plumage of the bird ! 

All at once the kite began to flutter — then one of 
his wings disappeared ; and, notwithstanding the hur- 
ried flapping of the other, both bird and serpent fell 
heavily to the earth ! 

They fell close to the spot from whence they had 
risen. Neither was killed by the fall, nor, to all ap- 
pearance, hurt ; for, the moment after they had touched 
the ground, both were seen engaged in a violent strug- 
gle — the bird evidently endeavouring to free himself 
from the folds of the reptile, while the latter seemed 
equally bent upon holding him ! The snake knew 
well that this was its only hope ; for, should it unfold 
itself and endeavour to escape, it would only give the 
kite an opportunity of clutching it a second time, when 
he would be certain to do it with more fatal effect. 
It was because the reptile had buried its head in the 
grass that the kite had failed in seizing it properly by 
the neck, and putting an end to it at once. 

This, no doubt, was the idea of the snake ; but it is 
probable that its antagonist at the moment would have 
been delighted to ‘ ‘ cry quits ’ ’ with it, for the bird was 
in a worse “fix” than it was. As things stood, the 
serpent had undoubtedly the advantage. 

It was likely to prove a protracted struggle ; for, 


Ube Boy! 1F3unters 


although there was much twisting and wriggling over 
the ground, and flapping of the odd wing — that was 
still free — very little change for a long time appeared 
to take place in the relative position of the combatants. 
This could be seen whenever they paused to rest them- 
selves — which they did every two or three minutes. 

How was it to end ? The kite could not kill the 
snake, for he could not get at it, either with his beak 
or talons. The hold which he had at first taken he 
had lost, in his attempts to save himself from falling ; 
and he w^as now unable to renew it, so closely was the 
reptile warped around him. The snake, on the other 
hand, could not kill the kite ; for, although possessed 
of considerable powers of constriction they were not 
sufficient. It was strong enough to hold, and, per- 
haps, squeeze its antagonist, but not strong enough to 
crush and kill him. 

Though each, no doubt, at the moment wished to 
be far enough from the other, they could not separate 
with safety to both. The kite could not get away, and 
the snake dared not let him go ! 

How, then, was the affair to end, in the event that 
no third party should interfere? This was the conjec- 
ture of our adventurers, as with curious eyes they 
watched this singular contest. The train of reasoning 
w’as as follows : 

By one or the other dying of hunger. But which 
would starve first ? It was well known that the kite 
114 


Zbc Cbain of destruction 


could live for days without food. Ha ! but so too 
could the snake, — nay, more, for every day the bird 
could go without eating, the reptile could fast ten ; 
besides, the snake had just dined — dined sumptuously 
upon the scorpion lizard, that was now lying undi- 
gested in his stomach ; whereas the kite had not tasted 
dinner, — nay, it was very certain he had not break- 
fasted either — and must have been very hungry indeed 
to have attempted preying upon a blood-snake full four 
feet long — for, as is well known, his usual prey is the 
locust, the chameleon, and the little green snake {Colu- 
ber cEstivus). Under every view of the question then, 
the snake had the advantage of the bird, and would 
easily outstarve him. Thus, then, the affair would 
end, if the combatants were left to themselves. 

The young hunters arrived at this conclusion ; and, 
having watched the contest until their curiosity was 
satisfied, were about stepping forward to put an end to 
it, when a new manoeuvre on the part of the combat- 
ants caused them to remain still. The kite had got his 
beak close to the head of the serpent, and was striking 
with open mandibles, endeavouring to seize the jaw of 
the latter. He was upon his back — for these birds 
fight best in that position. The serpent, on the other 
hand, was trying his best to bite the bird ; and for this 
purpose at intervals extended its jaws, showing the 
double rows of sharp conical teeth. At one of these 
intervals, while its mouth was open, the kite struck 


XTbe Ibunters 


quickly upward, and seized the lower jaw of the rep- 
tile in his beak. The latter closed its mouth on the 
instant ; but the horny mandible was impervious to its 
sharp teeth, and the bird regarded them not. 

The kite continued to hold fast with his powerful 
beak. He had now gained the advantage for which 
he had been all the while contending. He had got a 
“ fulcrum for his lever,” and he was not slow in using 
it. Suddenly turning back upward, with the aid of his 
wing and one of his claws, he held himself fast to the 
ground, while with his strong neck he drew the head 
of the serpent close under him until it lay within reach 
of his other claw. Then with a quick fierce stroke he 
planted his talons, so as to encircle the throat of his 
adversary, clutching and holding it like a vice. 

This manoeuvre put a period to the contest. The 
red coils were seen to loosen, then fall off ; and, 
although the reptile still writhed, it was only in its 
death-struggles. In a few moments its body lay along 
the grass, powerless and without motion. 

The kite after a short rest drew his beak from the 
jaws of the serpent, raised his head, extended his 
wings — to assure himself they were free — and, with a 
scream of triumph, rose upward, the long carcass of 
the reptile trailing after him like a train ! 

At this moment another scream reached the ears of 
the young hunters. It might have passed for the echo 
of the first, but its tones were wilder and louder. All 

ii6 


Ube Cbain of Ibestriiction 


eyes were turned to the direction whence it came. The 
boys knew very well what sort of a creature had ut- 
tered it, for they had heard such notes before. They 
knew it was the white-headed eagle. 

They caught sight of him the moment they turned. 
It was not difficult to see him soaring upward — his 
great tail and broad wings expanded, seven feet in 
extent, against the light blue sky. 

When first seen his flight was nearly in a straight 
line, slanting up in the direction of the kite — for that 
was the object that had started him. He was evidently 
bent upon robbing the latter of his late gotten booty. 

The kite had heard the cry that echoed his own ; 
and, knowing its import, at once plied all the power of 
his wings to rise higher into the air. He seemed re- 
solved to hold on to liis hard-earned plunder ; or, at all 
events, not to yield it without giving the more power- 
ful robber the trouble of a chase. The fresh remem- 
brance of the peril he had passed through in obtaining 
it, no doubt stimulated him to this resolve. 

Birds of his species will sometimes outfly and escape 
the eagle — that is, some eagles, for these bird-kings 
differ in degrees of swiftness as hounds or horses. So, 
too, do the kites ; and the one in question having, no 
doubt, full confidence in his wings, thought he would 
make trial of those of his pursuer — who, being per- 
sonally unknown to him, might be some individual too 
fat, or too old, or too young, perhaps, to possess full 
117 


Ube Ibuntets 


powers of flight. At all events he had made up his 
mind to have a “ fly ” for it — believing that if over- 
taken he could easily put an end to the pursuit by sur- 
rendering the snake, as his cousin, the osprey, often 
has to do with his fish. Up, therefore, he went, in a 
.spiral curve of about fifty yards in diameter. 

If the kite entertained the idea that his pursuer was 
either a very old or 3^oung bird, or too fat a bird, or in 
any way a ‘ ‘ slow ’ ’ bird, he was likely to be soon un- 
deceived. That idea was not shared by those who 
watched him in his flight. On the contrary, the young 
hunters thought they had never seen a more splendid 
specimen of his kind, — of full feather, snow-white 
head and tail-tip, and broad clean-cut wings. He was 
one of the largest size, too ; which proved him not to 
be a “ him,” but a female — for, strange to say. Nature 
seems to have reversed her order with these birds — the 
females being universally brighter in plumage, larger 
in body, swifter of wing, stronger, and even fiercer 
than the males. It may be inferred, that in the social 
life of “ eagledom ” the fair sex have their “ rights,” 
and perhaps a little more. One thing is certain, and it 
seems to be a consequence of this (in compliment to the 
sex I say it) that nothing like polygamy is known 
amongst them. Woe to the eagle husband that would 
even dream of such a thing ! 

Viola ! up goes the kite, straining every pinion of 
his pointed wings — up the spiral curve, screwing him- 


Ube Cbaiu of destruction 


self towards the zenith. Upward follows the eagle, 
spirally as well, but in wider gyrations that embrace 
and seem to hold the curvatures of the other within 
their circumference. Both birds circle concentrically. 
Now their orbits cross each other — now they are wheel- 
ing in parallel curves. Still upward flies the kite — still 
upward goes the pursuing eagle. Closer and closer 
they appear to come ; narrower grow their soaring 
circles — but that is because they are more distant and 
seem so. See ! the kite is but a speck, and appears 
stationar}" — now he is lost to the view. See ! the eagle 
is but a speck ! She, too, disappears ! No, not alto- 
gether — the little spot like the fragment of a white 
cloud, or a piece of snow upon the sky — that is her 
tail-tip. Ha ! it is gone too — they are beyond the 
reach of our vision. . . . 

Hark ! Ish-sh-sh ! Did you hear that sound, like 
the whistling of a rocket ? See ! Something has 
fallen upon the tree-top, breaking several branches ! 
As I live it is the kite ! Dead he is, and the blood is 
spurting from a wound in his shoulder ! 

Hark, again ! Whush-sh-ush ! It is the eagle. 
See ! she has the serpent in her talons ! . . . 

The ‘eagle had shot down from her elevation, though 
no eye could have followed her in that arrow-like de- 
scent. When within two or three hundred yards of 
the ground, her wings flew out, her tail was spread, 
and, suddenly lowered, fan-like to its fullest extent, 
119 


Zbc :i6op Ibunters 


arrested her downward course ; and, with a few meas- 
ured strokes, she glided slowly over the tops of the 
trees, and alighted on the summit of the dead mag- 
nolia. 

Basil seized his rifle, with the intention of having a 
shot. There was not much cover on the ground that 
encircled the tree where the eagle had perched herself ; 
and the young hunter knew from experience that his 
only chance of getting near enough was to make his 
approach upon horseback. He therefore drew the 
picket that fastened Black Hawk ; and, flinging him- 
self upon the horse’s back, rode off among the bushes. 
He had been gone but a few minutes when a sharp 
crack was heard, and the eagle was seen tumbling 
from her perch. 

This was the last link in the chain of destruction. 


CHAPTER XII. 


THE WHITE-HEADED EAGEE. 

B asie returned, bringing with him the great bird. 

It was a female — as Eucien knew — and one of 
the largest, being over twelve pounds in weight, and 
measuring seven feet between the tips of the wings 
when expanded. The bird of this species rarely ex- 
ceeds eight pounds in weight, and is proportionately 
small in oth^r respects. 

The white-headed eagle (^Falco leucocephalui)^ or 
“bald eagle,” as he is generally called — because his 
white head gives him somewhat of a bald appearance 
— has been adopted by the United States as the em- 
blem of their Republic. If his disposition be consid- 
ered, he would be a more fit emblem for a band of 
robbers — for a more absolute robber and tyrant does 
not exist among the feathered races. He robs the os- 
prey of his fish, and the vulture of his carrion ; in 
short, lords it over every creature weaker than him- 
self. Now this is not the character of the nation he 
represents — far from it. It is true they have shown a 
desire to extend their territory, and have made con- 

I2t 


Ubc Boy 1[3unters 


quests to this end. But what is the motive of these 
conquests ? Is it to enslave and render tributary ? 
No. They conquer not to enslave^ but to make free ! 
There are two motives for Anglo-American — I may 
say Anglo-Saxon, conquest, for true Englishmen feel 
these motives as much as Americans do. They wish 
to bring the whole world under a liberal form of gov- 
ernment — one that will bear the scrutiny of reason — 
one that in time may extinguish crime, and render 
poverty a thing of the past — one that is not a patent 
usurpation and a robbery — a robbery perhaps more 
criminal in the eyes of God than waylaying on the 
highroad, or piracy on the high seas — more criminal, 
because more extensive in its fatal effects. Anglo- 
Saxons wish to destroy despotism, lest they or their 
descendants might again become what their ancestors 
once were — its victims. This, then, is one motive of 
their conquests, and it is nothing more than the naked 
instinct of self-preservation. But there is another 
motive — a nobler and more generous one. They have 
drunk from the cup of Eiberty — the draught has 
pleased them, has given them happiness and joy ; 
and, urged by that better part of our nature, they wish 
to share that sweet cup — ample for all — with all men. 
This is the true motive of the conquest of civilisation ; 
and under the banner of such a cause, it is a question 
whether war and anarchy and confusion be not prefera- 
ble to the deceptive peace and apparent prosperity of 


122 


Ube Mbite^lbeabeb lEa^le 


despotism, that, like the death-dealing vampire, soothes 
while it destroys. 

I do not say that all Americans nor all Englishmen 
are entitled to the glory of such a holy motive for con- 
quest. No. Too large a proportion, alas ! are actu- 
ated only by the ignoble idea of selfish or national 
aggrandisement. The robber is often found in the 
same camp, and fighting under the same banner, with 
the soldier of Freedom. It is not strange, therefore, 
that the true sons of Eiberty should sometimes be as- 
sociated with its bastard children of the shackle and 
the whip. 

But I shall not weary j^ou with any more political 
science. Not that I consider it of small importance 
to you. On the contrary, I deem that science the 
most important of all others that have ever ocaipied the 
attention of men. Its influence extends to almost every 
object around you. It shapes the carriage in which 
you ride, and the ship in which you sail. Its knowl- 
edge modifies the nature of your soul, and decides 
whether you shall be a slave or a freeman. It even 
extends to the form of your body, giving it the abject 
attitude and gloomy aspect of. slavery and guilt, or the 
bold, upright carriage and joyous look of virtue, which 
God gave to the first man when He made him after 
His own image. 

But come, boy reader ! I have promised not to 
weary you with these things. Such teachings I must 


123 


Ube Ibunters 


reserve for a future opportunity ; when, God willing, I 
shall present them to intellects older than yours. Per- 
haps you yourselves may then be old enough to take 
an interest in them ; and if so, you may learn some 
truths that .for long years have been the study of your 
friend — the author. 

Now let us return to the eagle. I am thinking what 
a pity it is that the Americans should have chosen this 
tyrant-bird as the emblem of their liberty ; for, although 
he is most appropriate for one portion of their people he 
is far from being a fit emblem of the principles of the 
great Republic. So thought the wise Franklin. There 
are many other animals, peculiar to the territory of 
the United States, far more deserving of the distinc- 
tion. There is the bold but harmless buffalo, the 
stately elk, and the industrious beaver ; or if a bird 
must needs be upon the banner, where could one be 
found better suited to that end than the wild turkey, 
possessing as he does a combination of good qualities — 
grace, beauty, courage, and usefulness ? Thus reasoned 
Franklin ; and it might be yet worth the while of the 
American people to give consideration to his reasoning, 
and discard the eagle ; or, at all events, change the 
species — for peculiar to the United States territory there 
is another bird of the kind, far nobler, as well as larger 
and more beautiful. 

It is curious to observe how many countries have 
adopted this rapacious bird for their emblem ; and it 


124 


Ube Mbtte:s1beabeb Bagle 


forms a sad index to the motives that have hitherto 
actuated nations. In ancient times it was seen upon 
the banners of Persia and Rome. In modern days 
Napoleon spread its wings like black shadows over 
France. It is the emblem of Russian despotism and 
American freedom. Austria, Prussia, Poland, Sicily, 
Spain, Sardinia, and many of the small governments 
of Germany, look up to the eagle on their standards ; 
while, upon the other side of the Atlantic, it waves 
over the great nations of the United States and Mexico, 
as well as several of the smaller republics. Why, a 
general war among the nations of the world would be 
almost exclusively a war among the eagles ! It is not 
improbable that the lion would insist upon having a 
claw in the quarrel ; although his honesty and nobility 
of disposition are very much doubted, particularly by 
the jackal and some other animals. He is, therefore, 
no better qualified to act as the representative of a 
pacific people than the very worst of the eagles ; but 
he fortunately has a wise keeper, called Public Opinion, 
who of late has held him under some restraint. 

“ What a chain of destruction ! exclaimed Uucien. 
“ One creature preying upon another.” 

‘ ‘ Ay, ’ ’ added Francois ; ‘ ‘ and how curious it should 
begin with a bird and end with a bird. Uook at the 
two together. Ha ! ha ! ” 

As Fran9ois made this remark, he pointed to the 
125 


Zbc iFDunters 


little humming-bird and the great eagle — which had 
been laid side by side upon the grass, and, sure enough, 
presented in size and appearance a most singular 
contrast to each other. 

“You forget, Francois,” said Fucien, “ there were 
two other links to the chain, and perhaps many 
more.” 

“ What other links? ” demanded Francois. 

“ The humming-bird, you remember, when attacked, 
was himself a destroyer. He was killing the little 
blue-winged 

“ That is certainly another link, but ” 

‘ ‘ Who killed the eagle ? ’ ’ 

“ Ah, true ! Basil, then, was the last link in the 
chain of destruction.” 

“Perhaps the most criminal, too,” said Tucien, 
“because the least necessary. The other creatures 
were but following out their instincts to procure food, 
whereas Basil’s only motive was one of wanton de- 
struction.” 

“ I beg to differ with you, Tnce,” said Basil, inter- 
rupting his brother, sharply, “it was no such thing. 
I shot that eagle because he killed the kite, and robbed 
him of his prey, instead of using his industry and 
getting food for himself. That ’s why I added a link 
to your chain.” 

“In that sense,” replied Tucien, smiling at his 
brother — who seemed a little ruflBled at being thus 
126 


Zhc Mbites=1beaDeb lEngic 


charged with unnecessary cruelty, — “in that sense 
you were, perhaps, justifiable; though it is difficult 
to understand why the eagle was more guilty than the 
kite himself. He took only one life, and so did the 
kite.” 

“ But,” rejoined Basils “ in addition to taking away 
the life of his victim, he robbed him. Robbery and 
murder both. Now the kite was guilty only of the 
latter.” 

“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed I^ucien and Francois 
together. ‘ ‘ There zs a distinction with a difference ! ’ ’ 

“But, brother Tuce,” inquired Francois, “what 
did you mean when you said there might be many 
more links to this chain ? ’ ’ 

“Why, who knows but the blue- winged fly was 
preying upon some other creature smaller than him- 
self? And these again, upon others still less; who, 
though invisible to our eyes, possess life and organisa- 
tion as well as we. Who knows to the contrary ? And 
who knows the reason why a mysterious Providence 
has created these beings to be the food of each other ? 
That is a question about which we can arrive at no 
satisfactory conclusion.” 

“Who knows, brother,” said Francois, “since you 
are speculating — who knows but there may be an 
extra link at the other end of the chain ? Ho, Basil ! 
what say you ? Suppose we fall in with grizzly bears. ’ ’ 
And Francois laughed as he put the question. 

127 


Ube IfDunters 


“And supposing we do,” replied Basil, are as 

likely to form that link as anybody else.” 

“Heaven forbid!” exclaimed Lucien. “I hope 
that in all our travels we shall see neither a grizzly 
bear nor an Indian.” 

“And I hope for nothing of the sort,” rejoined 
Basil. ‘ ‘ I long to have a crack at a grizzly ; and as 
for Indians, I haven’t the least fear of them, so long 
as I carry this.” 

As Basil made this remark, he drew out the little 
beaded case from his bosom, held it up a moment, and 
then returned it to its place again. 

“ Now, brother,” cried Francois, “tell us about that 
pouch, and how it is to save us from Indians. I am 
really curious to know.” 

“ Not now, my boy,” replied Basil, with a patronis- 
ing air. “Not now. We must prepare our supper, 
and get to sleep. We have lost half a day drying our 
rags, so we must make up for it by an early start in 
the morning. Then for the prairies I ’ ’ 

“Then for the prairies ! ” echoed Francois, — “ the 
prairies — the wild horses — the big-horns — and the 
buffalo ! ” 


128 


CHAPTER XIII. 


THREES BUFFAI,Oi:S WITH WINGS. 

O UR travellers next morning resumed their 
journey, and for several days continued on 
without meeting any incident worth recording. They 
crossed many large streams, among which may be men- 
tioned the Neches and Trinity of Texas. 

On the “divide,’’ between the Trinity and Brazos 
rivers, an adventure befell them that came near having 
a painful result. 

In hot weather it was their custom to halt during 
the noon hours, both to refresh themselves and rest 
their animals. This is the custom of most travellers 
through these wild regions, and is called ‘ ‘ nooning. ’ ’ 
With this intention, one day, they drew bridle by 
the edge of a tract of prairie, and dismounted. Be- 
hind them was the forest through which they had just 
passed, and before them lay the prairie, which they 
intended to cross in the cool of the evening. The 
surface of the latter was quite level, covered with a 
green mantle of young buffalo-grass, with here and 
there an island of low timber that broke the monotony 


Zbc Ibunters 


of the view. In the distance a thick forest of live-oak 
bounded the prairie on the other side ; and although 
the latter appeared only two or three miles distant, it 
was not less than ten — so deceptive is the pure atmos- 
phere of these upland regions. The country in which 
they now were was what is termed “ timber prairie ” — 
that is, a prairie interspersed with groves and copses. 

I say our adventurers had just dismounted, and 
were about to take off their saddles, when an ex- 
clamation from Francois drew the attention of his 
brothers. 

‘ ‘ Vozl^ ! ’ ’ cried he, pointing out to the open ground. 
“ Buffaloes — buffaloes ! ” 

Basil and Tncien looked in the direction pointed out. 
Three large dark objects were seen on the crest of a 
low swell in the prairie. They were moving about ; 
and one was evidently smaller than the others. 

“ Of course they are buffaloes,” continued Francois. 
“ Took at their size ! Two bulls and a cow, no doubt.” 

His brothers agreed with him. None of the three 
had ever seen buffaloes in their native wilderness ; and 
of course had but an indistinct idea of how they might 
appear from a distance. Buffaloes they must be — elk 
or deer would look red — wolves red or white ; and they 
could not be bears, as these last would not likely be 
out on the prairie in threes, unless, indeed, they might 
be grizzly bears — who do sometimes go out into the 
open ground to dig for the pomme-blanche and 


130 


Ubvcc Buffaloes with Mings 


other roots. This, however, was not proba.ble, as the 
grizzly bears are seldom or never found so far to the 
eastward. No. They were not “grizzlys.” They 
were not wild horses neither, that was plain enough. 
Buffaloes, then, they must be. 

Tike all who see buffaloes for the first time in their 
native pastures, our young hunters were filled with ex- 
citement — the more so, since to meet with these ani- 
mals was the object of their expedition, of the long 
and perilous journey they had undertaken. 

A hurried consultation followed as to how they 
should capture these three. It was true that none of 
them was a wkz^e buffalo ; but no matter. Our hun- 
ters wanted to taste buffalo beef ; and the chase after 
these w^ould give them practice, which might serve them 
afterwards. How, then, were they to set about it? 

“ Why, run them, of course,” counselled the ready 
Francois, with the air of an experienced buffalo-hunter. 

Now, there are several methods of hunting buffaloes, 
practised upon the prairies, both by whites and In- 
dians. The most common is that of which Francois 
spoke, “running.” This is done by simply overtak- 
ing the buffalo, galloping alongside of him — the hun- 
ter, of course, being on horseback — and shooting him 
through the heart while he runs. Shoot him in the 
region of the heart you must ; for you may put twenty 
bullets into his great body elsewhere, and he will still 
manage to get away from you. The hunters aim a 


XTbe IfDunters 


little above the brisket, and behind the fore-shoulder. 
The white hunters use the rifle, or sometimes a large 
pistol — which is better for the purpose, as they can 
load it more easily while going in a gallop. The In- 
dians prefer the bow — as they can shoot arrow after 
arrow in quick succession, thus slaying many buffaloes 
in a single “run.” So expert are they with this 
weapon, that their arrows have been known to pierce 
through the bodies of large buffaloes, and pass clear 
out on the other side ! At times the Indians use spears 
with which they thrust the buffaloes, while galloping 
alongside of them. 

Another method of hunting these animals, is termed 
“ approaching.” 

‘ ‘ Approaching ’ ’ buffaloes is nothing else than creep- 
ing stealthily on them until within range, when the 
hunter fires, often loads again and fires, and so on, un- 
til many of them are killed, before their companions 
take the alarm and scamper off. Indeed, the hunter 
will sometimes crawl up to a herd ; and, concealing 
himself behind the bodies of those he has already 
killed, fire away until many have fallen. In doing this 
he takes care to keep to leeward ; for if otherwise, and 
these animals — who have much keener scent than 
sight— should happen to “ wind” him, as it is termed, 
they are off in a moment. So keen is their scent, that 
they can detect an enemy to windward at the distance 
of a mile or more. In “ approaching,” the hunter 
132 


tEbcee Buffaloes wltb Mings 


sometimes disguises himself in the skin of a wolf or 
deer ; when the buffaloes, mistaking him for one of 
these animals, permit him to get within shooting dis- 
tance. An Indian has been known to creep up in this 
manner into the midst of a buffalo herd, and with his 
bow and arrows, silently shoot one after another, until 
the whole herd lay prostrate ! ‘ ‘ Approaching ’ ’ is 

sometimes a better method than “running.” The 
hunter thus saves his horse — often a jaded one — and is 
likely to kill a greater number of buffaloes, and get so 
many more hides, if that be his object, as it sometimes 
is. When he is a traveller onl}^, or a beaver-trapper, 
who wants to get a buffalo for his dinner, and cares for 
no more than one, then “ running ” is the more certain 
mode of obtaining it. In this way, however, he can 
kill only one, or at most two or three ; for, while he is 
shooting these, and loading between times, the herd 
scatters, and runs out of his reach ; and his horse is 
apt to be too much ‘ ‘ blown ’ ’ to allow him to overtake 
them again. 

A third method of hunting buffaloes is the “sur- 
round.” This is practised only by the Indians — as 
the white hunters of the prairies are rarely ever in 
such numbers as would enable them to effect a “ sur- 
round.” The name almost explains the nature of 
this hunt, which is practised as follows : When a 
band of Indian hunters discover a herd of buffaloes, 
they scatter and deploy into a circle around them. 


133 


4 

trbe HDunterB 


They soon accomplish this on their swift horses, for 
they are mounted — as all prairie hunters are sure to be, 
whether whites or Indians. As soon as the circle is 
formed, the Indians ride inward wdth loud yells, and 
drive the buffaloes into a thick clump in the centre. 
They then dash upon them with bows and lances — each 
hunter killing as many as he can. The buffaloes be- 
come confused, run to and fro, and but few of them in 
tlie end get off. A herd of hundreds, and even thou- 
sands, is sometimes slaughtered at one of these battues. 
The Indians make this wholesale destruction for two 
objects ; first, to get the meat, which they preserve by 
“jerking” — that is, by cutting into thin strips and 
drying in the sun — and secondly, for the skins with 
which they cover their tents, make their beds, and part 
of their clothing. Many of them they barter at the 
trading-house of the whites — established in remote re- 
gions for this purpose — where they receive in exchange 
knives, rifles, lead, powder, and vermilion. 

Another method the Indians have of hunting the 
buffalo, is not unlike the last, but is still more fearful 
to witness. 

Most of the region where the buffaloes range consists 
of high upland prairies, such as in Asia are called 
“steppes,” and in Mexico and South America 
‘ ‘ mesas, ” or “ table-lands. ’ ’ Such plains are elevated 
from three to six thousand feet above the level of the 
sea. In many places on these table-lands there are 


134 


Xlbree JButfaloes vvttb Mings 


deep refts called “canons,” or more properly “bar- 
rancas,” that have probably been formed by running 
water during rain-storms. These are often dry, and 
look like vast fissures opening down into the earth — 
often for a thousand feet or more — and extending away 
for scores of miles across the prairie. Sometimes two 
of them intersect each other, forming a triangular space 
or peninsula between ; and the traveller on reaching 
this point is obliged to turn back, as he finds himself 
almost encircled by precipices yawning downward into 
the earth. Whenever the Indians get a herd of buffa- 
loes near one of these canons, they surround them on 
three sides, and guide them towards the precipice ; 
and when they are near enough, gallop forward with 
wild shouts, causing the buffaloes to dash madly and 
blindly over. A whole herd will sometimes leap a 
precipice in this way — those in the front being forced 
over by the others, and, these in turn pressed, either to 
take the leap or be thrust by the spears of the pursuing 
horsemen. Sometimes when the Indians are not in 
sufficient numbers to make a “surround” of buffalo, 
they collect buffalo chips, and build them in little piles 
so as to represent men. These piles are placed in two 
rows, gradually converging towards each other, and 
leading to one of the aforementioned bluffs. Between 
these two rows they drive the buffaloes, that, mis- 
taking the piles of their own “chips” for Indians, 
are guided onwards to the edge of the precipice, when 

135 


Ube Bos ibuntera 


the hunters make their noisy rush, and force them 
over. 

There are other methods of buffalo-hunting, such as 
pursuing them in the snow, when the hunters in their 
snow-shoes easily overtake and slaughter them. Some 
Mexican buffalo-hunters (in the southern prairies called 
“ciboleros”) capture the buffalo with the lasso; but 
this method is not often practised, except when they 
wish to catch the young calves alive for the purpose of 
raising them. 

Now, all these methods were familiar to our three 
young hunters — that is, familiar from descriptions — as 
they had often heard about them from old trappers who 
came down among the settlements of Louisiana, and 
who sometimes spent the night under their father’s 
roof — for the Colonel liked very much to entertain 
these old trappers, and get a talk out of them. It was 
from this source then, that Frangois derived his ideas 
of buffalo-hunting, which led him in the pride of his 
knowledge to exclaim, “ Run them, of course.” 

Basil and Lucien took a little time to consider it, all 
the while keeping their eyes fixed upon the three 
buffaloes. There was just one a-piece, which they 
could separate, and run down — they were far from any 
cover, and it might therefore be difficult to “ approach ” 
them— moreover the horses were fresh, for the day 
before had been Sunday, and our adventurers had 
always made it a rule to lie by on that day, to rest 
136 


XTbree JSutfaloes mtb Minos 


both themselves and their animals. This they did in 
accordance with a command given to them by their 
father at starting. All things considered, then, “run- 
ning ’ ’ was the best plan, and it was the one they re- 
solved to adopt. 

Jeanette was tied to a tree, and left behind with her 
packs, that had not yet been taken off. Marengo, of 
course, was taken along with them, as he might prove 
useful in pulling down one of the old bulls if wounded. 
Everything that might encumber the hunters was left 
with Jeanette ; and all three rode out upon the prairie, 
and made direct for the animals. It was agreed that 
each should choose one of them, and then do his best 
with gun and pistols. Francois had put buck-shot into 
both barrels, and was full of confidence that he was 
about to ‘ ‘ throw ’ ’ his first buffalo. 

As they drew nearer, a lustrous appearance upon the 
bodies of the strange animals attracted their attention. 
Were they buffaloes, after all ? 

The brothers rode quietly onward, observing them 
with attention. No, buffaloes they were not. The 
rough shaggy bodies of these would not shine so, for 
they glittered in the sun as they moved about. Buffa- 
loes they could not be. 

“ That they are not,” said Eucien, after a deliberate 
look through his fingers. 

“ What are they then ? ” inquired Francois. 

“ Eisten ! ” replied Eucien ; “ do you hear that ? ” 

137 


Ubc :Bop Ibunters 


All three had drawn bridle. A loud ‘ ‘ gobble — obble 
— obble'' proceeded from the animals, evidently uttered 
by some one of the three. 

. “ As I live,” exclaimed Francois, “that’s the gob- 
ble of an old turkey-cock ! ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Neither more nor less, ’ ’ replied Fucien, with a smile. 

‘ ‘ They are turkeys I ' ' 

“Turkeys!” echoed Basil, “turkeys taken for 
buffaloes ! What a grand deception I” 

And all three at first looked very blank at each other, 
and then commenced laughing heartily at the mistake 
they had made. 

“ We must never tell of this,” said Basil, “ we 
should be laughed at, I reckon.” 

“ Not a bit of it,” rejoined Lucien, “ such mistakes 
are often made, even by old travellers on the prairies. 
It is an atmospheric illusion very common. I have 
heard of a worse case than ours — of a raven having 
been taken for a buffalo I ” 

“When we meet the buffaloes then, I suppose we 
shall mistake them for mammoths,” remarked Fran- 
cois ; and the disappointed hunters now turned their 
attention to the capturing of birds instead of buffaloes. 


138 


CHAPTER XIV. 


A WII.D-TURKEY HUNT. 

C OME on ! ” cried Basil, putting the spur to his 
horse, and riding forward. “ Come on ! It 
isn’t so bad a case after all — a good fat turkey for 
dinner, eh ? Come on ! ” 

“ Stay, brother,” said Eucien, “how are we to get 
near them ? They are out on the open ground — there 
is no cover.” 

“We don’t want cover. We can ‘ run ’ them as we 
were about to do had they bean buffaloes.” 

“ Ha ! ha ! ha ! ” laughed Frangois ; “ run a tur- 
key ! Why it will fly off at once. What nonsense 
you talk, brother ! ’ ’ 

“ I tell you, no,” replied Basil. “ It is not nonsense 
— it can be done — I have often heard so from the trap- 
pers — now let us try it ourselves.” 

“ Agreed, then,” said Francois and Eucien at once ; 
and all three rode forward together. 

When they had got near enough to distinguish the 
forms of the birds, they saw that they were two old 
“gobblers” and a hen. The gobblers were strutting 
139 


Zbc JSo^ 1l)untet6 


about with their tails spread like fans, and their wings 
trailing along the grass. Every now and then they 
uttered their loud “gobble — obble— obble, ” and by 
their attitude and actions it was evidently an affair of 
rivalry likely to end in a battle. The female stalked 
over the grass, in a quiet but coquettish way — no doubt 
fully aware of the warm interest she was exciting in 
the breasts of the belligerent gobblers. She was much 
smaller than either of these, and far less brilliant in 
plumage. The males appeared very bright indeed — 
almost equal to a pair of peacocks — and as their glossy 
backs glanced in the sun with metallic lustre, our 
hunters thought they had never before seen such beau- 
tiful birds. 

Taken up with their own quarrel, they would no 
doubt have allowed the hunters to get within shooting 
distance of them. The*female, however, was upon 
the alert ; and seeing these draw near, she raised her 
head with a loud ‘ ‘ tweet ! ’ ’ which attracted the atten- 
tion of her companions. In a moment their spread 
tails closed and came to the ground, their wings were 
shut up, and their long necks stretched into the air. 
Their forms underwent a complete change, and they 
now stood erect upon the prairie, each of them full five 
feet in height : 

“ Beautiful creatures ! ” exclaimed Eucien. 

“Yes,” muttered Basil. “They will not give us 
much longer time though. We had best make a dash. 

140 


H MtlDssXTurl^e^ Ibunt 


Take you the hen, Tuce, your horse is the slowest. 
Now for it. For — ward ! ’ ’ 

All three spurred their horses, and dashed forward 
together, Marengo leading the chase. In a moment 
they were within a hundred yards or so of the turkeys. 
The latter, thus suddenly set upon, ran a few paces, 
and then rose into the air, with a loud flapping of 
their wings. They took different directions, confused 
by being sprung in such haste. Bach of the boys had 
selected the one he intended pursuing ; and upon that 
one alone his eyes became flxed. Basil and Fran9ois 
followed the gobblers, while Bucien rode at a quiet 
gallop after the hen. 

Marengo, of course, took part in the chase, joining 
in with Bucien — whether because he deemed the hen 
to be “ sweeter meat,” or that she was likely to be the 
easiest caught of the three, v 

She did not fly far before coming to the ground 
again ; when she ran with all her might for the nearest 
clump of timber. Hither Bucien followed, Marengo 
leading the way, and occasionally uttering a sonorous 
yelp as he ran. As Bucien entered the timber, he saw 
the dog standing by the root of a large oak. He had 
“treed” the turkey, and was looking upward with 
glancing eyes, barking and wagging his tail. Bucien 
rode cautiously under the tree, where he perceived the 
turkey crouching among the moss, upon one of its 
highest branches. His rifle was up to his shoulder in 


Ube :iBo^ IFDunters 


a moment ; and after the crack, the bird was heard 
tumbling and fluttering through the leaves. Marengo 
sprang upon it as it came to the ground ; but his mas- 
ter, leaping from his horse, scolded him off, and took 
up the game which was found to be quite dead. 

kucien now remounted : and, as he rode out into 
the open ground, he could see Basil far off upon the 
prairies. He was going at full gallop ; and the gobbler 
with outspread wings was seen some distance ahead of 
him, running like an ostrich ! Both Basil and gobbler 
soon disappeared to his view — lost behind one of the 
timber islets. lyUcien looked for Fran9ois. The latter 
was nowhere to be seen — having pursued his gobbler 
in a direction where the groves were more thickly 
studded over the prairie. Thinking it would be of no 
use to follow either of them, Tucien rode slowly back 
to where Jeanette had been left upon the edge of the 
forest. Here he dismounted, and sat down to await 
the return of his brothers. 

Basil’s chase proved a longer one than he had ex- 
pected. He had chosen the biggest of the birds ; and, 
no doubt, the strongest and toughest. His gobbler, 
at the first flight, made a clear stretch of nearly a mile ; 
and, when he alighted again, ran like a scared cat. 
But Basil was not to be discouraged ; and, keeping the 
spurs well to his horse, soon gained upon him. The 
turkey again took to his wings, dropping down another 
half mile in the advance. Again Basil galloped up ; 

142 


H 1bunt 


and once more the old cock rose into the air — this time 
flying only about a hundred yards before he alighted. 
Basil was soon up to him with his fleet horse ; but the 
gobbler was now unable to fly any farther. He could 
run, however, at a good rate ; and where there was an 
uphill in the prairie he ran faster than the. horse. 
Downhill, the latter gained upon him ; and thus they 
went, until the bird began to double and circle about, 
showing all the symptoms of weariness. Several times 
the horse ran over him, the turkey on these occasions 
turning and taking the back track. 

The chase was prolonged for a considerable time. 
The bird, at length, became completely exhausted ; 
and squatting down, thrust his head and long neck 
among the weeds, like the ostrich, thinking himself 
thus hidden from his pursuer. Basil now drew his 
horse’s rein, raised his long rifle, and the next moment 
a bullet passed through the gobbler, and stretched 
him dead upon the grass. 

Basil then dismounted ; and, taking up the turkey, 
tied its legs to the cantle of his saddle. This required 
all Basil’s strength, for the bird was one of the largest 
size — a forty-pounder. 

As soon as the hunter had made all fast, he leaped 
back into his saddle, and commenced riding — where ? 
Ay, that was the question which he asked himself 
before his horse had advanced three lengths of his 
body — where was he going ? All at once the thought 
143 


XTbe Ibunters 


came into his mind that he was lost ! Groves of timber 
were on all sides of him. They were like each other ; 
or, if they differed, he had not in his wild gallop noted 
that difference, and it could not serve to direct him now. 
He had not the slightest idea of the point whence he 
had come, and therefore knew not in what direction to 
go. He saw and felt that he was lost ! 

My young reader, you cannot conceive the thoughts 
that come over one who is lost upon the prairies. 
Such a situation has appalled the stoutest hearts ere 
now. Strong men have trembled at feeling themselves 
thus alone in the wilderness ; and well might they, for 
they knew that the consequence has often been death. 
The shipwrecked mariner in his open boat is scarcely 
worse off than the lost traveller upon the prairie-sea ; 
and many, under the circumstances, have gone mad ! 
Fancy then the feelings of the boy Basil. 

I have already said he was a cool and courageous 
lad. He was so, and proved it now. He did not lose 
presence of mind. He reined in his horse, and sur- 
veyed the prairie around him with an intelligent eye. 
It was all to no purpose. He saw nothing that would 
give him a clue to the spot where he had separated 
from his brothers. He shouted aloud, but there was 
neither echo nor answer. He fired off his rifle, and 
listened — thinking Tucien or Francois might reply by 
a similar signal ; but no such signal gratified his ear. 


144 


H 1bunt 


He reloaded, and sat for a while in his saddle, buried 
in thought. 

“Ha ! I have it I” he exclaimed, suddenly raising 
himself in his stirrups, “ Why was I so stupid ? Come, 
Black Hawk ! we are not lost yet ! ” 

Basil had not been all his life a hunter for nothing ; 
and although he had but little experience upon the 
prairies, his wood-craft now stood him in stead. The 
thought which had so suddenly occurred to him was a 
good one, the only one that could with certainty save 
him. He had resolved to return upon his own tracks. 

He wheeled his horse ; and, with eyes bent upon 
the ground, rode slowly along. The turf was firm, 
and the hoof-marks were not deep ; but Basil had a 
hunter’s eye, and could follow the track of a fawn. 
In a few minutes he arrived on the spot where he had 
killed the turkey. The blood and feathers upon the 
grass made him sure of this. Here he halted a mo- 
ment, until he could determine the direction in which 
he had approached this spot. That was at length 
resolved to his satisfaction ; and he rode slowly in the 
back track. After a few lengths of his horse had been 
passed over, the trail doubled. Basil followed the 
double, and came back, passing almost over the same 
ground again. Again it doubled as before, and again 
and again, without going a hundred yards from the 
place where the bird had been shot. All these turnings 
the young hunter retraced with the greatest care and 


Ube :fiSop IFDuntets 


patience. In this he showed his judgment and his 
knowledge of hunter-craft ; for, had he grown impa- 
tient and taken a wider range to find the trail, he 
might have fallen upon his last-made tracks, and thus 
have brought himself into a regular maze. 

After a while the circles in which he travelled be- 
came larger ; and, to his great joy, he at length found 
himself advancing in a straight line. Many horse- 
tracks crossed his trail ; some of them nearly as fresh 
as his own. These did not bafiie him. They were the 
tracks of mustangs ; and although Black Hawk was 
not shod any more than they, his rider knew the print 
of the latter’s hoof as well as he knew the appearance 
of his own rifle. The Arab’s track was considerably 
larger than those of the wild horses. 

After following the trail backward for nearly an 
hour, — his eyes all the time bent upon the ground, — 
he was suddenly startled by a voice calling him by 
name. He looked up, and beheld Tucien by the edge 
of the woods. With a shout of joy he plied the spur 
and rode forward. As he drew near, however, his 
feeling of joy became one of painful apprehension. 
There was Tucien, — there were Jeanette and Marengo 
— but where was Frangois f 

“Where is Frangois?” inquired Tucien, as Basil 
rode up. 

The latter could hardly speak, so strong were his 
emotions. 


146 


H 1[3unt 


“O brother!” he faltered out at length, “has 
Francois not returned? ” 

“No,” answered Fucien, “I was thinking he was 
with you, and you would come back together, I have 
been wondering what could have detained you so 
long.” 

“O God, he is lost!” cried Basil, breaking into 
an agony of grief. “ Fucien ! Fucien ! our brother 
is lost ! ’ ’ 

“Lost! what mean you?” asked Lucien, half 
believing that Francois had been attacked by Indians, 
or some wild animal, and that that was what Basil 
meant. “ Has anything happened to him ? Speak, 
Basil!” 

“No, no!” replied Basil, still speaking wildly, 
“ lost on the prairie ! O brother, you know not what 
it is — it is a fearful thing. / have been lost, — I have 
got back ; but Francois, poor little Francois ! there is 
no hope for him ! he is lost — lost ! ” 

‘ ‘ But have you not seen him since we all three 
parted ? ’ ’ inquired Lucien in dismay. 

“ No, not since we parted. I was myself lost, and 
have been all this time finding my way. I succeeded 
by following back my own trail, else we might never 
have met again. O Francois ! poor brother Francois ! 
what will become of him f ” 

Lucien now shared the apprehensions as well as the 
agony of his brother. Up to this time he had been 


147 


XTbe IF^unters 


under the impression that they had got together, and 
something had detained them — perhaps the breaking 
of a stirrup-leather or a girth, he knew not what — and 
he was just beginning to grow uneasy when Basil 
made his appearance. He knew not what it was to be 
lost ; but Basil’s wild explanations enabled him to con- 
ceive what it might be ; and he could well appreciate 
the situation of Frangois. It was no time, however, 
to indulge in paroxysms of grief. He saw that Basil 
was half unmanned ; the more so because the latter 
looked upon himself as the cause of the misfortune. 
It was Basil who had counselled the running of the 
turkeys and led on to the chase. 

Instead of giving way to despair, however, both fell 
that they must take some steps for the recovery of their 
lost brother. 

“ What is to be done ? ” said Lucien. 

Basil now became himself again. The hope of sav- 
ing Fran9ois restored him to his wonted energy and 
courage. 

“Is it better we should remain here?” asked Lu- 
cien, who knew that his brother’s strong judgment 
would decide upon the best plan. 

“ No,” replied the latter ; “it is of no use. /could 
not have found my way back, but for the tracks of my 
horse. Fran9ois will not think of that ; and even if 
he did, his horse is a 7 nustang^ and the prairie is cov- 
ered with mustang tracks, running in every direction. 

148 


a 1bunt 


No, no, he will never come back here, except by 
chance ; and there are a thousand chances to one 
against it. No, we must go in search of him ; we 
must go upon his trail ; and that I fear will be impos- 
sible among so many others. Before we leave this 
place,” continued Basil, “ let us try every chance that 
is left. Are you loaded ? ” 

” Yes,” replied Bucien. 

“ Fire, then, a moment or two after I do. The first 
report may call his attention to the second.” 

Basil raised his piece and fired into the air. A few 
seconds after, Tucien fired also, and both stood to lis- 
ten, their hearts beating audibly. 

For five minutes or more they stood — so that Fran- 
cois might have time to load his gun, if empty. There 
was no response. 

Again the brothers loaded their rifles — with powder 
only — putting in heavy charges and ramming home 
tightly, in order that the explosions might be the 
louder. Again they fired as before. The result was 
the same ; there was no answer to their signal. 

” It proves that he is very distant,” said Tucien, ” for 
sounds can be heard a great way off in this region.” 

” Tet us try a smoke,” said Basil, putting away his 
rifle. “ Gather some wood. Luce, while I kindle the 
leaves.” 

Basil picked up some pieces of the burning wad ; 
and having taken it out to the open ground, raked 
149 


Ube 1f3unter5 


together a pile of dry leaves and grass, and ignited it. 
Meanwhile lyucien collected an armful of sticks, and 
placed them upon the pile. Others were then thrown 
on top, with green leaves and boughs broken from the 
trees, and, over all, several armfuls of Spanish moss 
which hung plentifully from the oaks. A thick blue 
smoke soon ascended high into the heavens ; and the 
brothers stood with searching eyes that scrutinised the 
prairie in all directions. 

“ He must be far off if he cannot see that,” remarked 
Lucien. “ It should be visible for ten miles around, I 
should think ! ” 

“At least that much,” ans^wered Basil; “but he 
would not be long in getting ten miles away. The 
chase might have carried him a good part ; and, find- 
ing himself lost, he would soon gallop the rest.” 

“Unless,” suggested Uucien, “ he may have ridden 
about, as you did, upon his own trail.” 

“ No, he would not be likely. Poor little Francois 
would not think of it ; he has not enough craft for 
that ; and, indeed, I almost hope that he has not done 
so.” 

“ Why do you hope so? ” inquired Uucien. 

‘ ‘ Because we will stand a better chance of making 
out his trail if he has gone straight forward.” 

“ True, true,” rejoined Uucien, and both again were 
silent, and stood watching the prairie openings with 
anxious eyes. 


150 


H IfDunt 


They remained for a considerable time, but at length 
turned, to each other with countenances that exhibited 
a disappointed and sad expression. 

“He is not coming,” said lyucien, in a sorrowful 
tone. 

“ No ; he would have been up long since. He would 
be certain to gallop if he had seen the smoke. We must 
go after him.” 

They turned towards their horses. Basil’s glance 
fell upon the dog. A gleam of joy shot into his eye, 
and his whole bearing became suddenly changed. 

“ Ha ! ” he exclaimed, ‘ ‘ we have been wasting time. 
Quick, Tucien ! — your horse ! to your horse ! ’ ’ 

“ What is it? ” asked Tucien in surprise. 

‘ ‘ Do not ask me— a good thought strikes me ; but 
we have not a moment to lose — time is precious. Tet 
us be off ! ” 

“ But shall we leave Jeanette) ” 

“ By all means. Francois might come up.” 

“If he should, how is he to know where we are 
gone ? ’ ’ 

“True,” answered Basil, reflecting a moment. 
“ Oh ! ” he continued, “ give me your paper and pen- 
cil. You tie Jeanette while I write.” 

Tucien handed him a small slip of paper with a 
pencil ; and then proceeded to tie the mule securely 
to one of the branches. 

Basil took the paper and wrote : 

151 


Ube JBoy Ibunters 


Frangois we are g 07 ie upon your traiL Stay by 
Jeanette. ’ ’ 

He fastened the paper conspicuously to the trunk 
of a tree; and then, seizing his rifle and leaping 
into the saddle, called upon kucien to follow him. 

lyucien mounted, and rode after, while the dog 
Marengo trotted in the rear. 


152 


CHAPTER XV. 


TRAlIvING WITH A BTOOD-HOUND. 

T hey rode in a direct line to the spot where they 
had started in pursuit of the turkeys. From 
this place Fran9ois had taken to the left ; but there |were 
many tracks leading in the same direction — of horses, 
too, that had galloped. 

“As I told you, brother,” remarked Basil, “we 
could never have followed his trail by the tracks. 
Even here we are not certain of it. These must be 
his though — they look a little fresher than the others. 
Eet us try them. Marengo !” 

“Stay, brother!” interrupted Eucien. “The last 
place I saw Francois was yonder. I caught a glimpse 
of him passing round that point of timber.” 

“Ha! that is better. Perhaps, there his tracks 
may be separate from the others. Come on ! ” 

They rode about a hundred paces farther,, which 
brought them to the point of timber indicated by 
Eucien. 

“Yes,” exclaimed Basil, ''yon are right ! He has 
passed here. There are his tracks distinctly.” 

153 


Ube JBo^ ITDunters 


Basil dismounted, giving louden his rein. He knelt 
upon the grass, and examined the hoof-prints, one 
after the other, with’ extreme care. 

“ So ! ” he muttered, as he rose again to his feet, 
“ I shall you among a thousand.” 

“ Make yourself ready for a hard ride,” he con- 
tinued, addressing lyucien. “The dog, no doubt, 
will lead us in a gallop. Marengo ! ’ ’ 

The hound came running up to where the young 
hunter was stooping over the trail. The latter held 
a red object in his arms. It was Francois’ blanket, 
which he had loosed from his horse’s flank, and flung 
away when starting on the chase. The dog scented 
the blanket, uttering as he did so a low whimper, and 
gazing in his master’s face wnth a look of intelligence. 
He seemed to comprehend what was required of him. 

Basil now flung the blanket over his own saddle, 
stooped again, drew his fingers along the grass, and, 
with a wave of his hand, motioned Marengo to 
follow its direction. The hound, uttering a single 
yelp, bent his nose to the ground, and sprang for- 
ward upon the trail. 

Basil instantly leaped into his saddle ; and, snatching 
up the reins, cried out to his brother, — 

‘ ‘ Come, Lucien ! we must not lose sight of the 
dog, though our horses drop dead in their tracks ! 
All depends upon keeping him in view.” 

Both plied the spur, and dashed forward at a gallop. 

154 


UratliuG witb a JSloobs^lbounb 


“We must know how to find our way back again,” 
said Basil, reining up, as they passed the edge of 
one of the timber clumps. “We must not ourselves 
get lost ’ ’ ; and, as he said this, he crashed the branch 
of a tree, until the broken end hung dangling down- 
ward. He then resumed his gallop. 

For nearly a mile the hound ran in a direct line. 
It was the first flight of the turkey. His course 
then altered, although not a great deal, and carried 
him half a mile or so in a direct line as before. 

“The second flight,” remarked Basil to his brother, 
as both followed at a loose gallop, now with their eyes 
anxiously watching the dog, and now halting a mo- 
ment by some conspicuous tree to “ blaze ” their way, 
by breaking one of its branches. 

The dog at length entered a copse. 

“ Ha ! ” exclaimed Basil, “ Francois has killed his 
turkey there. No,” he continued — as the hound shot 
out of the copse again, and struck off into the open 
plain — “no. It has sought shelter there, but it has 
been run out again, and gone farther.” 

Marengo now led in a direct line for several hundred 
paces ; when, all at once, he began to double and run 
in circling courses over the prairie. 

“Draw up, Tucieii ! draw up!” cried Basil, as he 
pulled upon his bridle-rein. “I know what that 
means. Do not ride upon the track — you may baffle 
him — leave him to himself.” 


155 


trf3e :Bo^ Ibunter^ 


In a few seconds the hound stopped, uttered a short 
howl, and appeared to toss a dark object upon the 
grass with his snout. Basil and Lucien had halted 
at a considerable distance, but they could see that 
the object was some loose feathers. 

“The spot, beyond doubt, where Francois has killed 
the turkey,” muttered Basil. “If Marengo can only 
catch the trail by which he rode off all may be well ; 
but — that — that — see ! he is off again ! ” 

Now was the time that Basil and Tucien watched 
with beating hearts. They knew that a crisis was at 
hand. If Marengo, as Basil said, could find Francois’ 
departing trail, then he could follow it up almost to a 
certainty. Of this both the brothers were confident, 
as they knew the capabilities of the dog. But that was 
the point to be decided ; and both felt for the moment 
as if the life of their brother hung upon its decision. 
No wonder, then, that they watched every manoeuvre 
of the hound with breathless anxiety while they sat, 
motionless and silent, in their saddles. 

The hound after a while ran off from the feathers ; 
and was seen once more to double and circle over the 
ground. He did not go freely. He was evidently 
baffled by so many trails approaching and crossing 
each other. Again he came back to the spot where 
the turkey had been killed, and there paused with a 
howl of disappointment ! 

Basil and his brother uttered a simultaneous excla- 
156 


UraiUno wttb a Bloobs^lDounb 


mation, that betokened painful feelings. They knew 
that the howl was a bad sign ; but neither spoke. 

Once more the dog ran off, and as before turned and 
wheeled about upon the prairie. 

“ O God ! ” exclaimed Basil, in agony, “ he is com- 
ing on the old track ! ’ ’ 

It was too true ; for the next moment the hound, 
running on the back-track, bounded in among the 
feet of their horses. Here he stopped suddenly, 
throwing up his head, and uttering another howl of 
disappointment. 

Basil wayed him back. He struck out again and 
followed the old trail, but with like success. He 
then became confused, and ran every way over the 
ground, evidently baffled. The brothers regarded each 
other with looks of dismay. The trail was lost ! 

“Hold! There is hope yet! said Basil. “We 
may find it by making a wider circuit. Take my 
bridle,” continued he, throwing himself from his 
horse. ‘ ‘ Marengo ! — up, Marengo ! ’ ’ 

The dog obeyed the call, uttered in accents of com- 
mand ; and came running up to the feet of his master. 
The latter, telling Lucien to follow with the horses, 
struck off over the prairie. 

He walked slowly, bent forward and downward, 
carefully observing the ground as he went. He fol- 
lowed the circumference of an irregular circle, of 
wide diameter — in order to keep outside the doub- 
157 


TLbc IFDunters 


lings which Francois, had made in his last struggle 
after the wearied bird, and which had thrown the dog 
out. He passed several horse-trails leading various 
ways. All these he examined, but none satisfied him. 
In this manner he had gone half a mile around the 
circle, when his eye fell upon some that .seemed fresher 
than the rest. He sprang forward, stooping over them 
with a shout of joy, as he recognised the hoof-prints 
of Francois’ mustang. He knew them by a mark 
he had taken — where the dog had been first set upon 
the trail — a small chip broken from one of the fore 
hoofs. But Marengo needed not this. He was once 
more on the right scent ; and then again started off, 
nose down, over the prairie. 

Basil leaped into his saddle ; and, waving his 
brother to follow, galloped after, riding close upon 
the heels of the hound. 

The trail did not lead in a direct line. At some 
places it did so for several hundred yards — then it 
would turn suddenly to the right or left — then turn 
again and again in zig-zag lines. Sometimes it de- 
scribed a circumference of a circle, and at one or two 
points it recrossed itself. At these places the dog was 
once or twice nearly baffled again. 

They well knew the reason why the trail thus mean- 
dered about. Poor Francois had been wandering, and 
knew not which way to go. 

Once more the trail ran direct for a distance of two 
158 


TTratlin^ with a Bloob^^lbounb 


miles or more. No doubt Frangois bad there kept up 
his resolution and ridden straight forward ; but, as 
Basil remarked, he had been travelling all the time 
with his back to their camp ! Over this part, as the 
trail was fresh, their hound ran rapidly, keeping the 
hunters at a brisk gallop. At the end of the stretch 
it again turned to the right and westward. 

As they faced in this direction, the attention of the 
brothers was called to the sky. The sun was setting I 

A new feeling of apprehension came over them. 
They knew there was no twilight, or next to none, on 
these high southern plateaux. Should it come on a 
dark night, how were they to follow the dog, going 
as he was upon a run ? He might still keep the trail 
and come up with Francois, but what would be the 
good of that so long as they were not with him ? It 
would only give Francois another companion in his 
misery, but no clue by which he would be enabled to 
find them^ or they him. 

These thoughts were communicated between the two 
as they galloped on side by side. Soon the sun set, 
and the shades of twilight fell upon the grass. It 
grew darker, until it was difficult to distinguish the 
dusky body of the hound passing over the sward. 
What was to be done ? He would soon glide away 
from them, and leave them without a guide ! 

‘ ‘ I have it ! ” suddenly exclaimed Basil ; and at the 
words he spurred his horse forward to overtake Ma- 
159 


Ube Bo^ Ibunters 


rengo. The next moment he flung himself from the 
saddle ; and, seizing the hound, arrested him in his 
tracks. 

“ Alight, brother ! ” he cried ; “ alight, and help me. 
Off with your shirt — it is whiter than mine.” 

Lucien, half comprehending his design, immediately 
pulled off his blouse, and after that his shirt — which 
was of bleached cotton cloth lightly striped, and in the 
dim light showed nearly white. Basil took hold of it, 
and hurriedly tore off the sleeves. He then drew it 
upon the dog; and having passed the animal’s fore 
feet through the arm-holes, tied the collar securely 
around his throat with a piece of thong, and knotted 
the skirts over the flanks behind. Thus arrayed, 
Marengo looked like a street monkey ; and was ren- 
dered quite visible in the glimmering darkness. 

“Now!” cried Basil, exultingly, “we can follow 
him if it were as dark as pitch.” 

“ Stay a moment,” said Tucien ; “let us make sure. 
It is clear enough — I can write yet. ’ ’ As Tucien said 
this, he took out his note-book, and wrote : 

“ Frangois^ come back on your own trail. You will 
find us upon it. If you cannot follow it^ let Marengo 
guide you.'^ 

He tore out the leaf, handing it to Basil, who 
fastened it securely to the shirt. 

Marengo was again set loose, and took to the trail, 
while both mounted hastily and followed him. 



WHERE FRANCOIS WAS FOUND 




UraiUno with a Bloobs^lbounb 


Fortunately the night did not turn out so dark as 
they had anticipated ; and they could see the white 
covering with sufficient distinctness to enable them to 
follow it, even at a gallop. And thus they rode for 
nearly another hour — Basil still blazing their trail as 
they swept past the timber islets. 

All at once, as they rounded a thick grove, a bright 
object glistened before their eyes. It was a blazing 
fire under the shadow of some tall trees ! Marengo 
made straight for it. Fearing it might be an encamp- 
ment of Indians, Basil galloped forward ; and, alight- 
ing from his horse, intercepted the dog. A halt was 
made to determine what was best to be done. At that 
moment the fire blazed up, and a spotted object was 
seen near it. Hurrah ! It was Francois’ mustang ! 
Basil and Lucien now advanced rapidly ; and, to their 
great joy, beheld Francois sitting by the fire holding 
something over the blaze. The next moment the 
brothers were in each other’s arms, all three weeping 
with joy as they embraced ! 

Francois soon related his adventures. He had killed 
his turkey, and then lost himself ; but instead of going 
back upon his own trail, as Basil had done, he had 
wandered about until night-fall, at intervals shouting 
and firing his gun. At times his spirit failed him ; 
and he rode for long stretches without touching the 
bridle, or in any way guiding his horse. Wearied at 
length, he dismounted, and tied the animal to a tree. 


Ubc 1bunter0 


It was night when he did so ; and feeling cold^and 
hungry, he took courage and kindled a fire. Fortu- 
nately the gobbler still hung from the cantle of his 
saddle ; and he had just singed, and was roasting it 
over the fire when so agreeably interrupted by the 
approach of his brothers. At sight of the fine broil- 
ing turkey, Basil and Lucien became as hungry as a 
pair of wolves — for, in consequence of their anxiety, 
they had not thought of dining. The roast was soon 
ready ; and, after a plentiful supper — which Marengo 
shared — the young hunters staked their horses upon 
the grass, wrapped themselves in their blankets, and 
went to sleep. 


162 


CHAPTER XVI. 


JKANKTTE) and thk javadies. 

N ext morning they were astir at an early hour ; 

and, after giving the remains of the gobbler a 
hurried “devilling,” they ate them, and rode off on 
the back trail. They did not put the dog upon it to 
guide them — as the scent was now cold, and they 
feared that Marengo, keen as he was, might get astray 
upon it. They trusted to find it from their own tracks, 
and the ‘ ‘ blazes ’ ’ they had made. It was a slow pro- 
cess, and they were obliged to make frequent halts ; 
but it was a sure one, and they preferred it on that 
account, as they knew the importance of getting back 
to Jeanette. The tent, with all their provisions and 
implements, was in her keeping. 

They were in high spirits — as most people are who 
have just escaped from a perilous adventure — and joked 
each other as they rode along. Eucien was without a 
shirt — for Marengo had torn it, and it was now drag- 
gled, wet, and worthless. This was a staple joke for 
Francois. Jeanette came in for a share of their badi- 
nage, as Eucien now remembered that he had tied her 
163 


Ube JBop Ibunters 


head within a foot of the tree, and of course she would 
be all this time without eating a morsel. Moreover, 
in their hurry, the pack had been left upon her back ; 
and that was not likely to improve her temper. 

It was near mid-day when they came within sight of 
her. 

“ Hilloa ! ” exclaimed Francois, who first caught a 
glimpse of her round a point of timber. “What ’s 
going on yonder ? ’ ’ 

All three halted, and looked across the plain with 
astonishment depicted in their faces ; and no wonder, 
for a sight it was to astonish anybody. It was Jean- 
ette, to be sure ; but Jeanette in most singular attitudes. 
Her heels were flying in the air — now her fore feet, 
now her hind ones — not in single flings, but in con- 
stant and rapid kicking. Sometimes the whole set 
appeared to bounce up at once ; and the white canvass 
of the tent, which had got loosened, was flapping up 
and down, as her body rose and fell. 

The boys looked on for a moment, with feelings of 
curiosity, not unmingled with fear. “ It might be 
Indians,” thought they. 

“ No,” said Basil. “ It is wolves— she is attacked 
by wolves ! Tet us hasten to her rescue ! ” 

All three spurred their horses into a gallop, and 
soon got within a few hundred yards. They could now 
see the ground by the mule’s feet, which was covered, 
not with wolves, but with animals of a far different 

164 


Jeanette anb tbe Janalies 


species. They were hog-shaped, with small, dark 
bodies, and long pointed snouts. They had no tails — 
only knobs in their place ; and their tapering snouts 
opened into a pair of long jaws, with white tusks, that 
could be seen even iii the distance. 

‘ ' Javalies ! ’ ’ cried L/Ucien, who, although he had 
never seen the animal, knew them from description. 
Javalies they were in fact — the wild-hogs of Mexico. 

All three had pulled up, as soon as they saw the 
animals were not wolves. They did not halt long, for 
Jeanette was in danger. She was still kicking and 
squealing like a cat ; while the javalies, although sev- 
eral of them lay stretched behind her heels, were utter- 
ing their shrill grunts, and rushing at her shanks 
whenever these rested for a moment upon the earth. 
There were more than a hundred of them around her 
feet. The ground was literally covered with their 
dark forms, crowding each other, and springing nimbly 
about. 

Without waiting to consider the danger, Basil dashed 
into their midst, followed by Francois and Tucien. It 
was well they were mounted, else they never would 
have come out of that crowd again. All three had 
fired as they rode up. They believed that this would 
have scattered the drove ; but they found their mis- 
take, for although each of them shot down a victim, 
it had no effect ; and the next moment, their three 
horses were hopping about, plunging and pitching as 


Ube IBo^ 1f3untet0 


badly as Jeanette. The javalies surrounded them with 
shrill gruntings, driving their tusks into the horses’ 
shanks, and leaping up almost high enough to reach 
the riders themselves. It was well for them they were 
good riders. Had any of them been unhorsed at that 
moment, his fate would have been sealed. They kept 
their saddles, however, but without being able to re- 
load their pieces. Marengo, who was an old Texas 
hound, had seen javalies before ; and having wisely 
shied off upon the prairie, stood looking on. 

The young hunters soon saw that it was no use 
keeping their ground, and prepared to retreat. Basil 
urged his horse forward to the tree, and with his 
hunting-knife cut the lasso that fastened Jeanette ; 
then, shouting to his brothers to follow, started in a 
gallop across the prairie. 

Perhaps never was a mule more pleased at getting 
loose from a fastening than was that she-mule Jean- 
ette ; and never did a mule make better use of the heels 
that had been left her. She galloped over the prairie, 
as if the very deuce had been after her. But if he was 
not, the javalies were; for on came the whole drove, 
scores of them, grunting and screaming as they ran. 

The horses easily distanced them. So, too, did 
Marengo— but there was still danger for Jeanette. She 
had been now nearly two days without either food or 
water, and was weak in consequence. Her legs, too, 
were much torn by the tusks of the wild hogs. More- 
iC6 


Jeanette anC) tbe Japalies 


over, the tent that had got loose, trailing on one side 
to the ground, considerably impeded her flight. This 
last circumstance in the end proved her salvation ; for 
the javalies, overtaking her, seized the hanging can- 
vass in their jaws, and pulled it from the pack. It 
fell spreading over the grass like a blanket ; and the 
herd, now coming up and mistaking it for their real 
enemy, commenced stamping upon it with their hoofs, 
and tearing it with their teeth. This gave Jeanette 
time ; and she was j ust the mule at that moment to 
profit by it. Tightened of her load, she struck out 
into a fleet gallop, and soon overtook the horses ; and 
the whole cavalcade now kept on, until they had 
placed several miles between themselves and the java- 
lies. Here they halted with the intention of pitching 
their camps, as their animals were not only wearied, 
but Jeanette was hardly able to travel at all. The 
process of ‘ ‘ pitching camp ’ ’ was now considerably 
simplified, as they had lost not only their tent, but 
several of their camp utensils. 

What had induced the javalies to attack the mule? 
This was the subject of conversation with our adven- 
turers, as soon as they had fairly cooled from their 
race. They knew that these creatures rarely make an 
assault in such a manner without provocation. But 
it was likely Jeanette had given them this. No doubt 
they had been wandering about in search of food, 
and lighted upon the turkeys, that Tucien and Basil in 
167 


Ube JSoig Ibunters 


their haste had left lying upon the ground. The wild 
hogs are not particular as to their food. They will eat 
fish, flesh, or fowl, snakes, or vegetables ; and, finding 
the brace of birds, had commenced devouring them. 
In doing so they had come within reach of Jeanette’s 
heels ; who, at that moment not being in the best 
temper, had no doubt let fly, and kicked one of them 
over ; and this of course had led to a general onslaught 
from the whole herd. 

It was well for Jeanette that her masters arrived 
when they did, else her old ribs would soon have 
cracked under the sharp tusks of the enraged animals. 

The javalies, or peccaries — as they are more often 
termed by naturalists — are in general of a harmless 
disposition ; and, if not interfered with, will rarely 
make an attack upon man. When provoked, how- 
ever — by one of their number being wounded, or even 
when their haunt is invaded — they become both fierce 
and dangerous. Though small creatures, they possess 
extreme courage ; and their powerful jaws and large 
tusks render them formidable assailants. Like all 
animals of the hog species when enraged, they seem 
to be unconscious of danger ; and a herd of them will 
battle with an enemy until every one has fallen. Not 
unfrequently the Mexican hunter is “treed” by java- 
lies, and compelled to remain on his perch for hours, 
and sometimes for days, before his besiegers retire, and 
leave him to descend with safety. 

i68 


CHAPTER XVII. 


A CUNNING CAT AND A STY ODD ’POSSUM. 

HE place where our adventurers now encamped 



was in a large grove of white oaks and shell- 


bark hickory-trees. There was a spring near the 
centre of the grove, and near this spring the horses 
were tied, as there grew around it plenty of grass of 
the mezquite species. The dried meat, which formed 
the staple of their own provisions, had been scattered 
by Jeanette in her flight, and of course lost. What 
were they to have for dinner ? This was an important 
question ; and by way of answer to it, Basil and Fran- 
cois took up their guns and walked out to see whether 
they could fall in with a squirrel or some other eatable 
creature. But the sun was yet high, and no squirrels 
could be seen — for these little creatures hide themselves 
during mid-day, coming out only in the mornings and 
evenings to feed and play. 

Failing to start any game in the thick shady grove, 
the young hunters bethought them of making trial 
around its edge ; and, after walking a hundred yards 
or so, they came near the border of the prairie. They 


Ube IFDunters 


did not show themselves suddenly, as they were in 
hopes they might discover deer, partridges, or some 
other game in — what is usually a favourite resort — the 
open ground along the edge of the woods. They stole 
silently forward, therefore, using the large tree- trunks ^ 

to screen them. 

The prairie was a clear one — that is, without timber- 
islands, only here and there a tree, and these but small j 

ones, mostly black-jacks and shell-barks. They’ could J 

see over its surface to a great extent, as it was quite ♦ 

level and covered with short spring buffalo-grass. No I 

deer was upon it. Not an animal of any sort. Yes, •' 

there was. On looking more carefull)^, at no great ■ 

distance — about two hundred yards out — they beheld j 

two small creatures running over the sward, and at i 

intervals squatting upon their haunches like monkeys, : 

as if conversing with each other. ■; 

“Prairie-dogs,” .suggested Francois. -• 

“No,” said Basil, “ they are not that, for I see no - 

tails. The prairie-dogs have long tails. ” 

‘ ‘ What can they be, then ? ” * 


“Hares, I take it,” replied Basil, looking through t 

his fingers. f 

“ Hares ! ” ejaculated Francois, in some surprise. i 

“Why, they are not bigger than rats ! Ho you mean * 

that they are young hares ? ” 

“ No, indeed, full-grown hares of their species.” ^ 

“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed Francois. “Why, j 

170 ^ 

1 


Cat anb 'iC^oBsum 


brother, what are your eyes good for? You think 
they are far off, don’t you? I tell you they are not 
two hundred yards from us, and a grey squirrel would 
be a giant beside them. Hares, indeed ! ” 

“ I am still of that opinion,” answered Basil, as he 
continued to gaze intently at the animals. ” I am not 
certain, though. I wish I^ucien were here. Perhaps 
he could tell us what they are.” 

“ Here he is, then,” said Francois, as the footstep 
of Fucien was heard behind them. ‘ ‘ kook yonder, 
Fuce ! ’ ’ continued he. ‘ ‘ See what Basil calls a pair 
of full-grown hares ! ” 

“And Basil is right,” replied Fucien, after having 
examined them for a moment. “ They are full-grown 
hares.” 

Francois looked confounded. 

“ If I mistake not,” continued Lucien, “they are 
the species known among the Indians of the prairie as 
the ‘ little chief hare.’ They may be a different variety, 
though, for there are several species of these small 
hares found in the Rocky Mountains, and the prairies 
that lie around them. They are very rare. I wish we 
could get the skin of one. I am sure papa would prize 
it highly.” 

“That we may soon get,” said Francois. “ Can I 
not step forward, and shoot one of them ? ” 

“ No,” replied Rucien, “ they would be off like the 
wind, before you could get within range.” 


Ube ffiois Ibunters 


“ What about Marengo ? Can he not catch one ? ” 

“ I think not ; besides, he would tear it in pieces. 
No. Our only chance is to remain here. They appear 
to be making this way.” 

The three now took their stations behind the trunks 
of large trees, so as not to be observed by the timid 
little animals. 

The latter, as they fed and sported over the grass, 
were still getting nearer to the edge of the grove ; but 
as they advanced in an oblique direction, they were not 
likely to approach the point where the young hunters 
were stationed. These thought of moving farther 
along, so as to meet them ; and were about starting to 
do so, when an object appeared that caused them to 
remain where they were. 

Silently moving among the weeds and brambles, now 
trotting quickly behind the covering of a prostrate log, 
now slowly crawling over the more open ground, went 
a strange animal. At intervals it stopped, squatted 
low along the earth, and looked eagerly out upon the 
prairie. It did not see the young hunters. Its yellow 
eyes were bent upon the innocent little creatures that 
gambolled over the grass beyond. 

It was an odd-looking animal — about the size of a 
terrier-dog, but, otherwise, altogether unlike one. It 
was of a reddish yellow colour, with brown spots upon 
its sides, and stripes or bands of the same along its 
back. These gave it the appearance of the leopard or 
172 


Cat ant) ’posaum 


tiger species, and it resembled these animals in the 
rounded, cat-like form of its head. Its erect tufted 
ears, however, and short tail showed that it differed, 
in some respects, from the tiger kind. The tail, in- 
deed, was the oddest thing about it. It was not over 
five inches in length, curving stiffly upward, and look- 
ing as if it had been “ stumped,’* as the tails of ter- 
riers usually are. It was not so, however. Five 
inches was all the tail it ever had ; and this shortness 
of tail, with the thick clumsy legs — but, above all, the 
high tufted ears, approaching each other at their tips, 
— enabled the young hunters to tell what it was — a 
lynx. It was that species known as the ‘ ‘ bay lynx ’ ’ 
{lynx ru/us), commonly called in America the “wild 
cat,” and sometimes the “catamount.” It was the 
Texas variety of this animal — which is deeper in colour 
than the common bay lynx, and, I think, a different 
species. It was evidently doing its best to get near 
the little hares, and seize one or both of them. It 

knew it was not swift enough to run them down, but it 

• 

might get close enough to spring upon them. It was 
favoured to some extent by the ground ; for, although 
it was open prairie, the white withered grass of the 
previous year rose here and there over the new growth 
in.tufts, large enough to conceal its body as it squatted. 

Nearly in a direct line between the lynx and the 
hares grew a solitary tree, of the pecan species, with 
spreading limbs ; and almost under it was a little 
173 


Ubc JSop Ibunters 


patch or thicket of briars, weeds, and high grass — no 
doubt where some old log, or the carcass of an animal, 
had mouldered away, and fertilized the soil. For this 
the lynx was making on one side, and towards it the 
hares were feeding on the other. 

The latter had got very near it, and near, too, to the 
boys, who could now distinguish their long, erect ears, 
slender limbs, and graceful motions — resembling, in 
fact, those of the common hare. Their colour, how- 
ever, was different. It was a rusty fern, lighter under- 
neath, but in no part — not even under the tail — did 
any white appear. It was a beautiful sight to behold 
these innocent little creatures, now nibbling at the 
blades of grass, now leaping a few feet over the sward, 
and then settling comically upon their haunches. The 
young hunters thought it a beautiful sight ; afnd so 
would you, boy reader, had you witnessed the manoeu- 
vres of these miniature hares. 

An odd-looking object now presented itself directly 
in front of them, and close to the briars. If was of a 
round shape, and looked like a large clew of hair or 
wool of a greyish colour, half-buried in the ground. 
Whether it had been there before, neither Basil, nor 
Lucien, nor Francois, could tell. It might have been 
without their noticing it, as their attention was so oc- 
cupied with the hares and the lynx. Francois said he 
had noticed it a little before ; but it had only slightly 
arrested his attention, as he supposed it to be a tuft of 
174 


Cat anb 'ipossum . 


the dry grass or a globe-cactus {echinocactus ) — a species 
of which they had seen much of late, and to which it 
bore a considerable resemblance. It was evident, how- 
ever, on closer scrutiny it was not that. 

The little hares seemed to notice it about the same 
time ; and, prompted by curiosity, they drew nearer 
and nearer to it. There was nothing about its appear- 
ance to alarm them. They had never been attacked 
by an enemy in that shape. To all appearance it had 
neither teeth .nor claws, and consequently they had 
nothing to fear. 

Encouraged by the absence of all danger, and vieing 
with each other in boldness, the little creatures ad- 
vanced, first one and then the other, a few inches- far- 
ther, and so on, until their noses almost touched the 
strange object. All at once the clew-like body flew 
out, displaying a sharp-snouted four-footed animal, 
whose long serpent-like tail, at the same instant, sweep- 
ing around caught one of the hares in its prehensile 
embrace ! The little creature uttered a shrill squeak, 
while its companion bounded off in terror. 

The opossum (for it was no other than an old she 
’possum), now turned upon her tail ; and, seizing the 
head of the hare in her hog-like ja^ws, killed it at a sin- 
gle “cranch.” She then released it from the coil; 
and, laying it out upon the grass, would have made a 
meal of it then and there, had she been permitted to 
do so. But that was not ordained to be. 


175 


Zhc Ibunter^ 


The lynx, who was crouching forward, not twenty 
feet from the briars, had been a witness to all this. At 
first it seemed to give him chagrin. In a little while, 
however, he appeared rather to like it than otherwise. 

“On second thoughts,” said he to himself, “it is 
better as it is. The ’possum has saved me the trouble 
of catching the hare, and I might have missed it withal. 
She has captured the game, but / shall eat it, I guess.” 

These thoughts he certainly had — for they were as 
clearly expressed by his actions, as if he had been 
gifted with speech and had uttered them aloud. In 
accordance with them, therefore, he crept on, intend- 
ing to spring upon the ’possum unawares. 

The latter, however, before commencing to eat, like 
all who know that they have done a guilty deed, rais- 
ing herself to her full height, looked around to see if 
any one had been a witness to the act. Her eyes fell 
upon the lynx ; and, hastily seizing the hare in her 
teeth, she plunged into the bramble. 

The lynx, seeing that further concealment was of 
no use, bounded forward with curved back and mane 
erect. He did not at once follow into the briars, but 
ran around them, in order to discover at what point 
the ’possum had hid herself. He was not without ap- 
prehensions that she might have a hole there. If so, 
good-bye to both hare and ’possum, thought he. 

It appeared not, however ; for, after a few circlings 
around the patch, he was seen to dash boldly in. 

176 


Cat an^ ’possum 


For some time nothing could be seen of either lynx 
or ’possum. The patch covered only a few yards of 
the prairie, but it was a regular “brake,” with vines, 
briars, and thistles, thickly interwoven and canopied 
with leaves. Neither uttered any noise ; but the 
motion of the leaves, and cracking of the brambles 
at different points, told that a hot pursuit was going 
on underneath — the pursued no doubt baffling the 
pursuer, by her body being much smaller and better 
adapted for squeezing through narrow places. 

For some minutes this curious chase was kept up. 
Then the ’possum glided out into the open ground, to 
the avStonishment of all still carrying the hare in her 
mouth. She made directly for the tree, and proceeded 
to climb it, grasping the trunk with her fore-arms, like 
a human being. Her taking to the tree also excited 
surprise, as it was a small one — not over thirty feet 
high — and the young hunters knew that the lynx could 
climb as well as she. 

The latter now came out of the bramble ; and with 
one bound sprang to the foot of the pecan. He did not 
follow up immediately, but stopped a moment to breathe 
himself, evidently exulting — as he knew he could 
easily climb after, and feeling satisfied that he now 
had his game safe and secure. 

“Treed at last, old mother ’possum ! ” soliloquized 
he, although not aloud. “ I’ll get you now, an’ if I 
don’t give you a good woppin’ for the trouble you ’ve 
177 


12 


Uhc If^unters 


put me to — see if I don't ! I would n’t eat ye, nohow — 
you ain’t sweet enough for that — but I ’ll eat that hare, 
an’ I ’ll chastise you for using it so ! ” 

And with this determination he galloped up the 
pecan, his claws rattling against the bark. 

By this time the opossum had got near the top of 
the tree, and out upon one of the branches that grew 
horizontally. Along this the l3mx followed ; and had 
arrived almost within reach of the object of his pur- 
suit, when the opossum, suddenly lapping the branch 
with her tail, let herself down to the limb below ! The 
lynx appeared for a moment as if about to spring after ; 
but the limb was a slender one, and he was not sure 
that he might be able to grasp it. He, therefore, turned 
back, evidently chagrined ; and, descending by the 
main trunk, ran out upon the branch now occupied by 
the opossum. The latter, as before, again let herself 
down to another limb ; and then, without waiting for 
her pursuer, to another still lower, until she hung on 
the very lowermost branch of the tree ! 

The boys thought she was about to drop to the 
ground, and endeavour to escape to the woods. That, 
however, was not her intention, for she knew the lynx 
would soon overtake her if she made the attempt. 
She had got into the safest situation possible, under 
the circumstances, and she seemed to know it. She 
therefore continued to hang on the lowest limb of the 
pecan — so near its extremity, that the branch bent 
178 


Cat anb 'possum 


under her weight. It would not have carried another 
’possum — much less the heavier body of a lynx ; and 
the latter, with the ‘ ‘ eye of a lynx, ’ ’ saw that at a 
glance. 

Mortified as he was, however, he was determined to 
satisfy himself by a trial. He first crawled out upon 
the limb, proceeding with great caution as far he 
dared venture; and then with outstretched claw en- 
deavoured to reach the rings of her tail, thinking he 
might scratch them off. In this he was not successful. 
He could barely touch the tail with his toes ; and he 
might j ust as well have tried to open the claws of an 
eagle. He next mounted the branch above, thinking 
this would bring him nearer ; but he soon discovered 
his mistake. Again he ran out upon the limb where 
the opossum hung, and looked for a moment as if 
determined' to spring down upon her, and carry her 
along with him to the earth ; but the distance deterred 
him, and after a while he skulked back and squatted 
himself in a fork of the tree. 

He did not rest long before a new thought seemed to 
strike him. The ’possum was not so very high above 
the ground ; perhaps he could spring up and seize her 
by the nose ? It was at all events easy to make the 
trial. And with this intention he descended to the 
foot of the tree, and ran out to the spot over which 
she was hanging. But she was higher than he had 
calculated ; and, like the fox with the grapes, after a 


179 


Ube Bop Ibunters 


few leaps he gave it up. He was resolved, however, 
to make her stand a siege ; and, thinking he would be 
as comfortable where he was, he did not return to the 
tree, but sat down upon the grass, keeping his eyes 
fixed upon his antagonist. 

All this while the old ’possum hung quietly upon 
her tail, holding the hare in her teeth. From the 
moment she had secured herself in her present position, 
she seemed to have no fear of her antagonist. On the 
contrary, her countenance exhibited the expression of 
a malicious laugh — and this was as evident to the spec- 
tators, as words could have made it. The cunning 
creature plainly enjoyed the chagrin she was causing 
to the “catamount.” 

At intervals, however, the thought seemed to stray 
across her mind as to how it would all end : and then 
she assumed a graver look. The lynx was' determined 
— she saw that in his face — to make her stand a long 
siege. It would be, therefore, a question of patience 
and hunger. For the latter she was prepared ; and, 
to enable her to endure it the better, she passed the 
hare into her hand-like fore-feet, and commenced tear- 
ing and eating it ! 

This was too much for the patience of the lynx. 
He could bear it no longer, but rose suddenly to his 
feet ; and, with mane erect, rushed up the tree again, 
and out upon the branch where hung the opossum. 
This time, without stopping to calculate the danger, he 
180 


(Tat anb 'ipossum 


sprang forward, throwing his fore-feet around the other’s 
hips, and seizing her tail in his teeth. The branch 
creaked, then broke, and both fell together to the earth ! 

For a moment the lynx seemed stunned by the fall ; 
but, the next moment, he was “himself again.” He 
raised himself up ; arched his back like a true cat ; 
and, with a wild scream, pounced down upon the ’pos- 
sum. He seemed to have forgotten the hare, which 
the other had dropped in her fall. Revenge was the 
passion that now raged strongest within him. Re- 
venge caused him to forget that he was hungry. 

The opossum, as soon as she came to the ground, 
had suddenly clewed herself up ; and now presented 
the same appearance as when she first came upon the 
stage. Head, neck, limbs, and tail, were no longer 
visible — nothing but a round ball of thick, woolly hair ! 
At this the catamount tugged with “ teeth and toe- 
nails.” He worried it for not less than ten minutes, 
until he became weary. The ’possum was dead to all 
appearance ; and this the other seemed to think, — or 
whether he did or not, at all events, he became tired, 
and left off worrying her. The sweeter morsel — the 
hare — was before his eyes ; and this, perhaps, tempted 
him to desist, preferring to try his teeth for a while 
upon it. Feaving the ’possum at length, he turned 
round and seized upon the hare. 

At this moment Francois let Marengo slip, and the 
whole party rushed forward with shouts. 

iSi 


Ube 3l6op Ibunters 


The lynx, seeing his retreat cut off from the timber, 
struck out upon the prairie ; but the great hound soon 
overtook him ; and after a short but desperate fight, 
put an end to his poaching. 

The young hunters in pursuit had picked up the 
hare, which the lynx had dropped in his flight. When 
the chase was over they came back to the tree, with 
the intention of getting the dead ’possum, which they 
meant to cook for their supper. To their astonishment 
no ’possum was there — neither in the tree, nor the 
briar-patch beside it, nor anywhere ! The sly creature 
had been “playing ’possum ” throughout all that ter- 
rible worrying ; and, finding the coast clear, had 
“unclewed” herself, and stolen off to her hiding-place 
under the roots of some neighbouring tree ! 

Nothing remained but the body of the lynx and 
the poor little carcass of the hare. The former none 
of our adventurers cared to eat, although it is often 
eaten both by the trappers and the Indians — and the lat- 
ter was so torn and chawed as to render it worthless. 
So, since no other game — not even a squirrel — could be 
found about the place, all four — Lncien, Basil, Fran- 
cois, and Marenp^o^ went to sleep — for the first time 
since the commencement of their journey — supperless ! 


182 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


AN ODD ADVENTURE) BEFORE: BREAKFAST. 

T hey had plenty of meat for their breakfast 
though — such as it was — and came nigh pay- 
ing dearly enough for it. 

The three brothers slept lying along the ground 
within a few feet of one another. Their tent was gone, 
and, of course, they were in the open air. They were 
under a large spreading tree, and, wrapped in their 
blankets, had been sleeping soundly through the night. 
Day was just beginning to break, when something 
touched Frangois on the forehead. It was a cold, 
clammy object ; and, pressing upon his hot skin, woke 
him at once. He started as if a pin had been thrust 
into him ; and the cry which he uttered awoke also 
his companions. Was it a snake that had touched 
him? Francois thought so at the moment, and con- 
tinued to think so while he was rubbing his eyes 
open. When this feat was accomplished, however, he 
caught a glimpse of some object running off, that 
could not be a snake. 


183 


TLbc TfDunters 


“ What do you think it was?” inquired Basil and 
lyUcien, in the same breath. 

“A wolf, I think,” replied Francois. “It was his 
cold nose I felt. See ! yonder it goes. See — see — 
there are two of them ! ’ ’ 

Francois pointed in the direction in which the two 
animals were seen to run. Basil and Fucien looked, 
and saw them as well. They were about the size of 
wolves, but appeared to be quite black, and not like 
wolves at all. What could they be ? They had sud- 
denly passed into a darker aisle among the trees, and 
the boys had only caught a glimpse of them as they 
went in. They could still distinguish their two bodies 
in the shade, but nothing more. What could they be ? 
Perhaps javalies? This thought, no doubt, occurred 
to the brothers, because of their late adventure with 
these animals. 

“They are too large, and run too clumsily, for 
javalies,” said Fucien. 

“ Bears?” suggested Francois. 

“No, no ; they are not large enough for bears.” 

All three were puzzled. 

They had risen upon their hands and knees, disen- 
cumbered themselves of their blankets, and each had 
grasped his gun, which they always kept close by them 
when asleep. 

They remained in this position, straining their eyes 
up the gloomy alley after the two black objects that 
184 


Hn Hbventure 


had stopped about fifty yards distant. All at once the 
form of a man rose up before them, and directly in 
front of the animals. Instead of retreating from the 
latter, as the boys expected, the upright figure stood 
still. To their further astonishment, the two animals 
ran up to it, and appeared to leap against it, as if mak- 
ing an attack upon it ! But this could not be — since 
the figure did not move from its place, as one would 
have done who had been attacked. On the contrary, 
after a while, it stooped down, and appeared to be 
caressing them ! 

‘ ‘ A man and two dogs, ’ ’ whispered Francois, ‘ ‘ per- 
haps an Indian ! ” 

“ It may be a man,” returned Tucien, also speaking 
in a whisper. “I know not what else it could be ; 
but those are no dogs^ or / never saw such.” 

This Lucien uttered with emphasis and in a serious 
tone, that caused the brothers to draw closer to each 
other. 

During all this time Marengo stood by, restrained by 
them from rushing forward. The dog had not awaked 
until the first cry of Francois roused him. He was 
wearied with the long gallop of the preceding days ; 
and, like his masters, had been sleeping soundly. As 
all started almost simultaneously, a word from Basil 
had kept him in — for to this he had been well trained 
— and without a signal from him he was not used to 
attack any creature, not even his natural enemies. He 
185 


XTbe Ibunters 


therefore stood still, looking steadily in the same di- 
rection as they, and at intervals uttering a low growl 
that was almost inaudible. There was a fierceness 
about it, however, that showed he did not regard the 
strange objects as friends. Perhaps he knew what they 
were, better than any of the party. 

The three mysterious creatures still remained near 
the same spot, and about fifty yards from the boys. 
They did not remain motionless though. The two 
smaller ones ran over the ground — now separating 
from the upright figure and then returning again, 
and appearing to caress it as before. The latter now 
and then stooped, as if to receive their caresses, and — 
when they were not by — as though it was gi^thering 
something from the ground. It would then rise into 
an upright position, and remain motionless as before. 
All their manoeuvres were performed in perfect silence. 

There was something mysterious — awe-inspiring in 
these movements ; and our young hunters observed 
them, not without feelings of terror. They were both 
puzzled and awed. They scarcely knew what course 
to adopt. They talked in whispers, giving their coun- 
sels to each other. Should they creep to their houses, 
mount, and ride off? That would be of no use ; for 
if what they saw was an Indian, there were, no doubt, 
others near ; and they could easily track and overtake 
them. They felt certain that the strange creatures 
•knew they were there — for indeed their horses, some 

i86 


Hn HD\>enture 


thirty yards off, could be plainly heard stamping the 
ground and cropping the grass. Moreover, one of the 
two animals had touched and smelt Francois ; so there 
could be no mistake about it being aware of their pres- 
ence. It would be idle, therefore, to attempt getting 
off unawares. What then ? Should they climb into a 
tree? That, thought they, would be of just as little 
use ; and they gave up the idea. They resolved, at 
length, to remain where they were, until they should 
either be assailed by their mysterious neighbours, or 
the clearer light might enable them to make out who 
and what these were. 

As it grew clearer, however, their awe was not di- 
minished ; for they now saw that the upright figure 
had two thick strong-looking arms, which it held out 
horizontally, manoeuvring with them in a singular 
manner. Its colour, too, appeared reddish, while that 
of the small animals was deep black ! Had they been 
in the forests of Africa, or South instead of North 
America, they would have taken the larger figure for 
that of a gigantic ape. As it was, they knew it could 
not be that. 

The light suddenly became brighter — a cloud having 
passed off the eastern sky. Objects could be seen more 
distinctly, and then the mystery, that had so long held 
the young hunters in torturing suspense, was solved. 
The large animal reared up and stood with its side 
towards them ; and its long-pointed snout, its short 


XTbe Ibunters 


erect ,ears, its thick body and shaggy coat of hair, 
showed that it was no Indian nor human creature of 
any sort, but a huge bear standing upright on its 
hams, 

“ A she-bear and her cubs ! ” exclaimed Francois ; 
“ but see ! ” he continued, “ she is red, while the cubs 
are jet-black ! ” 

Basil did not stop for any observation of that kind. 
He had sprung to his feet and levelled his rifle, the 
moment he saw what the animal was. 

“For your life do not fire!” cried I^ucien. “It 
may be a grizzly bear ! ’ ’ 

His advice came too late. The crack of Basil’s rifle 
was heard ; and the bear dropping upon all fours, 
danced over the ground shaking her head and short- 
ing furiously. The light had deceived Basil ; and in- 
stead of hitting her in the head as he had intended, 
his bullet glanced from her snout, doing her but little 
harm. Now, the snout of a bear is its most precious 
and tender organ, and a blow upon that will rouse even 
the most timid species of them to fury. So it was with 
this one. She saw whence the shot came ; and, as 
soon as she had given her head a few shakes, she came 
in a shuffling gallop towards the boys. 

Basil now saw how rashly he had acted, but there 
was no time for expressing regrets. There was not 
even time for them to get to their horses. Before they 
could reach these and draw the pickets, the bear would 
iS8 


Hn ©b& H&ventuce 


overtake them. Some one of them would become a 
victim. 

“ Take to the trees ! ” shouted Tucien ; “if it be 
a grizzly bear, she cannot climb.” 

As lyucien said this, he levelled his short rifle and 
fired at the advancing animal. The bullet seemed to 
strike her on the flank, as she turned with a growl and 
bit the part. This delayed her for a moment, and 
allowed Tucien time to swing himself to a tree. Basil 
had thrown away his rifle, not having time to reload. 
Francois, when he saw the great monster so near, 
dropped his gun without firing. 

All three in their haste climbed separate trees. It 
was a grove of white oaks, as we have already stated ; 
and these trees, unlike the pines, or magnolias, or 
cypress-trees, have usually great limbs growing low 
down and spreading out horizontally. These limbs are 
often as many feet in length as the tree itself is in height. 

It was upon these that they had climbed — Basil 
having taken to that one under which they had slept, 
and which was much larger than the others around. 
At the foot of this tree the bear stopped. The robes 
and blankets drew her attention for the moment. She 
tossed them over with her great paws, and then left 
them, and walked round the trunk, looking upward, 
at intervals uttering loud “sniffs” that sounded like 
the “ ’scape ” of a steam-pipe. By this time Basil had 
reached the third or fourth branch from the ground. 

189 


Ube 1[3unters 


He might have gone much higher ; but, from what 
lyucien had suggested, he believed the animal to be a 
grizzly bear. Her colour, which was of a fern or ful- 
vous brown, confirmed him in that belief — as he knew 
that grizzly bears are met with of a great variety of 
colours. He had nothing to fear, then, even on the 
lowest branch, and he thought it was no use going 
higher. So he stopped and looked down. He had a 
good view of the animal below ; and to his consterna- 
tion he saw at a glance, that it was 7iot a grizzly, but 
a different species. Her shape, as well as general 
appearance, convinced him it was the “cinnamon” 
bear — a variety of the black, and one of the best tree- 
climbers of the kind. This was soon put beyond dis- 
pute, as Basil saw the animal throw her great paws 
around the trunk, and commence crawling upward ! 

It was a fearful moment. Lucien and Frangois both 
leaped back to the ground, uttering shouts of warning 
and despair. Francois picked up his gun, and without 
hesitating a moment ran to the foot of the tree, and 
fired both barrels into the hips of the bear. The small 
shot hardly could have penetrated her thick, shaggy 
hide. It only served to irritate her afresh, causing her 
to growl fiercely ; and she paused for some moments, 
as if considering whether she would descend and pun- 
ish the “ enemy in the rear,” or keep on after Basil. 
The rattling of the latter among the branches above 
decided her, and on she crawled upward. 

190 


Hn Hbwnture 


Basil was almost as active among the branches of a 
tree as a squirrel or a monkey. When about sixty feet 
from the ground, he crawled out upon a long limb that 
grew horizontally. He chose this one, because he saw 
another growing above it, which he thought he might 
reach as soon as the bear followed him out upon the 
first ; and by this means he got back to the main trunk 
before the bear, and down to the ground again. After 
getting out upon the limb, however, he saw that he 
had miscalculated. The branch upon which he was, 
bending down under his weight, so widened the dis- 
tance between it and the one above, that he could not 
reach the latter, even with the tips of his fingers. He 
turned to go back. To his horror the bear was at the 
other end in the fork, and preparing io follow him along 
the limb ! 

He could not go back without meeting the fierce 
brute in the teeth. There was no branch below 
within his reach, and none above, and he was fifty 
feet from the ground. To leap down appeared the 
only alternative to escape the clutches of the bear, and 
that alternative was certain death ! 

The bear advanced along the limb. Tran9ois and 
Tucien screamed below, loading their pieces as rapidly 
as they could ; but they feared they would be too late. 

It was a terrible situation ; but it was in such emer- 
gencies that the strong mind of Basil best displayed 
itself ; and, instead of yielding to despair, he appeared 
191 


trbe IF^unters 


cool and collected. His mind was busy examining 
every chance that offered. 

All at once a thought struck him ; and, obedient to 
its impulse he called to his brothers below, — 

“ A rope ! a rope ! Fling me a rope ! Haste ! for 
heaven’s sake haste ! a rope, or I am lost ! ” 

Fortunately, there la}^ a rope under the tree. It was 
a raw-hide lasso, used in packing Jeanette. It lay by 
the spot where they had slept. 

Fucien dropped the half-loaded rifle, and sprang 
towards it, coiling it as he took it up. Lucien could 
throw a lasso almost as well as Basil himself ; and that 
was equal to a Mexican “ vanquero ” or a “ gaucho” 
of the Pampas. He ran nearly under the limb, twirled 
the lasso around his head, and launched it upwards. 

Basil, to gain time, had crept out upon the limb as 
far as it would bear him, while his fierce pursuer fol- 
lowed after. The branch, under their united weight, 
bent downward like a bow. Fortunately, it was oak, 
and did not break. 

Basil was astride, his face turned to the tree and 
towards his pursuer. The long snout of the latter 
was within three feet of his head, and he could feel her 
warm breath, as with open jaws she stretched forward, 
snorting fiercely. 

At this moment the ring end of the lasso struck the 
branch directly between them, passing a few feet over 
it. Before it could slip back again, and fall off, the 
192 


an ©bt) Bbnenture 


young hunter had grasped it ; and with the dexterity 
of a packer, double-knotted it around the limb. The 
next moment, and just as the great claws of the bear 
were stretched forth to clutch him, he slipped off the 
branch, and glided down the lasso. 

The rope did not reach the ground by at least 
twenty feet ! It was a short one, and part of it had 
been taken up in the hasty knotting. Lucien and 
Francois, in consternation, had observed this from 
below, as soon as it first hung down. They had ob- 
served it, and prepared themselves accordingly ; so 
that, when Basil reached the end of the rope, he saw 
his brothers standing below, and holding a large buf- 
falo-skin stretched out between them. Into this he 
dropped ; and the next moment stood upon the ground 
unhurt. . 

And now came the moment of triumph. The tough 
limb, that had been held retent by Basil’s weight, 
becoming so suddenly released, flew upward with a 
jerk. 

The unexpected violence of that jerk was too much 
for the bear. Her hold gave way ; she was shot into 
the air several feet upwards, and falling with a dull 
heavy sound to the earth, lay for a moment motion- 
less ! She was only stunned^ however, and would soon 
have struggled up again to renew the attack ; but, 
before she could regain her feet, Basil had laid hold of 
Francois’ half-loaded gun ; and, hurriedly pouring 


1 


trbe Ibuntera 


down a handful of bullets, ran forward and fired them 
into her head, killing her upon the spot ! 

The cubs by this time had arrived upon the ground, 
and Marengo, who had now partially recovered, by 
way of revenging himself for the castigation he had 
received from their mother, attacked them with fury. 
The little creatures fought fiercely ; and, together, 
would have been more than a match for Marengo ; but 
the rifles of his masters came to his assistance, and 
put an end to the contest. 


194 


CHAPTER XIX. 


JKRKING A BKAR. 

A EE three — old bear and cubs — now lay stretched 
along the grass dead as may be. A rare-look- 
ing trio they were. The old one could not have weighed 
less than five hundred pounds. Her long, rough coat 
was of a fawn, or cinnamon colour, while the cubs 
were of a uniform black. This, however, is quite a 
common thing ; and, what is still more singular, the 
cubs of the black bear are often seen of a reddish or 
cinnamon colour, while the mother herself is pure black. 
No doubt the cubs when full-grown change to the 
colour of their own species ; but even at all ages bears 
of the same species are found varying in colour from 
difference of climate or other circumstances. 

On the continent of North America, say the natural- 
ists, but three species of bears are found, viz. ; the 
“black,” the “polar,” and the “grizzly.” This is 
not certain, however, for the cinnamon bear, of which 
we have been speaking, is probably a species distinct 
from the black. If so, there are four kinds on that 
continent, and, perhaps, a fifth ; as the brown bear of 

195 


Ube 1bunter6 


the Hudson’s Bay furriers, hitherto set down as a 
variety of the black, is more likely the Russian or 
brown bear of Europe. It may have reached the 
American continent by Kamschatka, where it is a 
common species. 

The polar bear is found only in the snowy regions 
that border the Arctic Ocean ; and never ranges above 
one hundred miles from the sea. The “grizzly,” for 
strength, courage, and ferocity, takes the first place 
among the bear family — out-ranking even his white 
cousin of the north. We shall have more to say 
of him by-and-bye. The black bear is our present 
subject ; and as all that is known of the cinnamon 
variety goes to show that its habits are similar to those 
of the black, what is here said of the one may be con- 
sidered applicable to both. 

The black bear {Ursus Americanus) is said to re- 
semble the brown bear of Europe. I can see no 
resemblance. There is enough of difference, certainly, 
to constitute them separate and distinct species. The 
former has one molar tooth more than the latter ; be- 
sides, the profile of the black bear is not so much 
arched, or convex, as that of the brown. In every 
respect, except habits, they are unlike each other. 
Their habits are nearly similar. 

The whole American continent is the range of the 
black bear. He can live, and no doubt enjoy life, 
in all climates. He is equally at home in the icy 

196 


3erP?inG a :Bear 


regions of Canada and the tropic swamps of lyou- 
isiana. He is found from the shores of the Atlan- 
tic to the Pacific. He inhabits thick forests, and 
ranges in rocky desert regions, where scarcely any 
timber grows. He prefers wooded districts, however ; 
and in these is most commonly met with. 

Black bears were very plentiful in America pre- 
vious to its colonization by the whites. The demand 

for their skins caused them to be much hunted since 

% 

that event ; and of course they are growing less 
numerous every day. The fur companies during the 
last hundred years have obtained thousands upon 
thousands of their skins both from white and In-* 
dian hunters. There are still many of these animals 
found in wild, unsettled parts ; and even in the old 
and long-inhabited states they are occasionally met 
with in secluded and mountainous districts. You 
would wonder that they have not been extirpated 
long ago — being such large creatures, easily discov- 
ered and easily tracked ; besides, it is always an 
ambition with the settlers and amateur-hunters to 
kill them. Moreover, but two cubs are produced 
at a litter, and that only happens once a-year. The 
fact is, that during winter, when the snow is on the 
ground and the bear might be easily tracked and 
destroyed, he does not show himself, but lies torpid 
in his den — which is either a cave in the rocks or a 
hollow tree. This happens only in the northern 
197 


XTbe JSo\? Ibunter^ 


countries, where there are snows and severe winters. 
In these he disappears for several months, hiding 
himself in his dark lair, and living, as the hunters 
assert, by “sucking his paws.” This assertion, 
however, I will not attempt to corroborate. All I 
can say is, that he retires to his lurking-place as 
“ fat as butter,” and comes out again in early spring 
as “thin as a rail.” 

There is another curious fact about bears, that 
to some extent, explains why they are not easily 
exterminated. It is this : the old she-animals are 
never killed during the period of gestation — for they 
*are never met with at that time. It has been said 
there is no hunter to be found in all America who 
remembers having killed a she-bear with young, 
either of the black or grizzly species. Now this is 
not the case with most other animals — such as foxes 
and wolves — which are often killed with a whole 
litter of young, many of their species being thus 
destroyed at once. 

The she-bear brings forth in winter in the deep 
recesses of some cave, where she has lain hid- dur- 
ing the whole period of her gestation ; and on this 
account while with young, she rarely, if ever, falls 
a victim to the hunters. When the cubs are large 
enough to go abroad, she takes them out, treating 
them with as much tenderness as a mother would 
her children. She will lay down her life for them 
198 


SerfemG a :®ear 


at any time, defending them with great courage, 
when attacked. It has been said that, like the alli- 
gator-mother, she is sometimes called upon to protect 
them from their savage fathers, who would devour 
them if they could. This I do not believe. 

The black bears are omnivorous. They will eat 
fish, flesh, fowl, and vegetables. They are fond of 
all kinds of berries and sweet fruits. They “go 
crazed ’ ’ after honey, climbing bee-trees and robbing 
the nests. They dig for roots — such as ground- 
nuts and prairie turnips. They lick up the larvae 
of insects greedily, turning over great logs to get 
at them. In the south they tear open the nests of 
turtles and alligators, and devour the eggs ; and, 
where there are settlements, they steal into the 
fields and eat quantities of young corn and potatoes, 
making sad havoc with the crops. The}'- will devour 
pigs and other animals, eating their flesh — it might 
be said, alive — as they do not stop to kill them, but 
eat while tearing them to pieces. They will satisfy 
their hunger with putrid carcass, or, in short, with 
anything that is eatable by any other creature. 

Notwithstanding the disgusting variety of his food, 
the flesh of the black bear is very palatable. It 
is a treat among the Indians and white hunters — 
particularly the large fat paws, which are esteemed 
the “tit-bits.” It is, perhaps, because these people 
are so fond of them, that they are led to believe the 

199 


Ubc Ibunters 


bear himself must be so, and therefore, during his 
winter retirement entertains himself by sucking them. 

There are many ways of capturing the bear. He 
is hunted by trained hounds. When thus attacked 
he will run straight on for ten miles, if his pursuers 
do not press him too close. When overtaken, how- 
ever, he turns upon the dogs ; and, should one of 
the latter come near enough, a single blow of his 
paws will usually send it sprawling. He runs awk- 
wardly on his plantigrade feet ; but, although from 
his great length and size he appears to move but 
slowly, it is not so. He manages to shuffle over the 
ground much more rapidly than one would suppose. 
He can overtake a man on foot — although a mounted 
hunter, with his dogs, will easily overtake kzm. 
When he finds that he cannot escape by running, 
he takes to a tree ; and, having clambered high up, 
tries to hide himself among the leaves. He does 
not often succeed in this, as the keen noses of the 
hounds guide them to the right tree, where they stand 
barking and howling until the hunters come up. 
These finding the bear “ treed,” rarely fail to bring 
him down with their rifles. He will then, if only 
wounded, fight fiercely both with dogs and hunters ; 
but it is only at such times that the black bear will 
contend with man ; as, when not attacked by the 
latter, he will never attack him. When wounded, 
however, or assailed by the hunter, he becomes a 


200 


3erF?ina a :fi3ear 


dangerous antagonist ; and men have been dreadfully 
mutilated and torn on such occasions, escaping only 
with their lives. Some there are who have been 
nearly crushed to death by his “ hug.” 

The black bear is often trapped and snared, in vari- 
ous ways — such as by log-traps, nooses tied to bent 
saplings, dead-falls, and steel-traps — and he is thus 
caught much more readily than either the lynx, the 
fox, or the wolf. 

It would be easy to fill a volume with anecdotes and 
adventures in which the black bear figures as the hero. 
Many stories of his peculiar habits are related in the 
back settlements of America, some of which are true, 
while others partake largely of exaggeration. We 
have not room for these, however ; and I have given 
you only facts, such as will enable you to form some 
idea of the general habits of this animal. 

Most of these facts were communicated by Lucien to 
his brothers, while they were engaged in preparing their 
breakfast ; and, as all three were very hungry, this was 
the first thing that occupied them after the bears had 
been killed. 

The breakfast consisted of part of a cub, which was 
cleared of the hair by being singed, and then roasted. 
They knew that bear-meat, like pork, is spoiled by 
skinning ; and they followed the Indian fashion of pre- 
paring it. They made a hearty meal, as the cub-meat 
proved both tender and juicy — having a flavour some- 


201 


Ube Ibunters 


thing between young pork and veal. Of course, Ma- 
rengo had his breakfast as well, coming in for refuse 
bits enough to have filled a large basket. The feet, 
however, which would have fallen to his share, had it 
been a deer or a buffalo, he did not get. Our 3^oung 
hunters had eaten bear-paws before ; and, of course, 
reserved these delicate morsels to themselves. 

As soon as breakfast was finished, and their animals 
had been led to the water, the brothers met together in 
a “council of three.” It was necessary to take into 
consideration how they should now act. Their circum- 
stances were very much altered. The whole of their 
provisions of dried meat, flour, and coffee, had been 
dropped by Jeanette in her flight, and, of course, eaten 
up or destroyed by the javalies. Henceforth they 
would have to depend entirely on their guns to supply 
them. The loss of their tent did not vex them, as in 
the fine summer weather, which they then had, they 
thought nothing of sleeping in the open air. But to 
be deprived of their coffee, that much-prized luxury of 
the prairie traveller, was a great chagrin. However, 
as Basil observed, they would have to get along with- 
out it. It would not be long before they should come 
across the buffalo, and with the delicious “ hump-ribs ” 
in plenty, hunters rarely long for other luxuries. All 
three felt satisfied that the buffalo-range was not far 
off, and that by keeping due westward they would soon 
be gratified with the sight of large droves of these ani- 


202 


SerF?ing a Beat 


mals. They resolved, however, to act with caution. 
They had heard that many tracts of the prairies are al- 
most barren of game. With this fact before their minds, 
they were not going to leave so much good food behind 
them as appeared to be in the carcass of the bear. She 
therefore must be “jerked,” and packed upon Jeanette, 
in lieu of the load which the latter had kicked off. So, 
with these intentions, Basil and Francois set to skin- 
ning her, while Tucien commenced collecting dry wood 
for a large fire. Of course they intended staying 
another night in the same camp, as it would take a 
day, at least, to “jerk ” the bear-meat. 

The bear was soon skinned and cut up into thin 
slices and strips — for that is the mode adopted in 
“jerking,” or preserving without salt. It is usual to 
cure the meat by simply hanging it over poles or lines, 
in a hot sun ; where it will dry sufficiently in three 
days, so that there will be no risk of its spoiling after- 
wards. But our adventurers did not wish to be de- 
tained so long, and therefore adopted another mode of 
curing it — that was by “ barbecuing ” it slightly over 
a fire. This was the plan : — A shallow pit was scooped 
out in the ground, and across it were laid green sap- 
lings, parallel to each other. Into the pit were thrown 
embers and red-cinders, so as to give up a considerable 
heat. Upon the saplings thin slices of the meat were 
laid — as on a gridiron — so that they might become 
dried and slightly toa.sted at the same time. Meat 
203 


XTbe JSo^ Ibunters 


cured in this way will keep for months ; and the In- 
dians and hunters usually adopt this plan, when they 
have no time to wait for a regular “jerking.” 

The second cub was singed, and cut up without 
skinning, as pork usually is. It was roasted, to be 
ready for eating at once — as they designed bringing it 
“ to the table ” before many hours. 

While the meat was dr5dng, Basil melted some of 
the fat in the kettle, which fortunately was one of the 
utensils that still remained. With this fat — which be- 
yond a doubt was genuine beafs grease — he anointed 
poor Jeanette’s shanks, that had been almost clean 
skinned by the teeth of the javalies. She had been 
suffering with them ever since, and the application of 
the bear’s grease seemed to give her great relief. 


204 


CHAPTER XX. 


A NOC1PURNAI, ADVBNTURK. 

W HEN night came again the young hunters 
went to sleep by the fire. As it had sud- 
denly grown chilly, they lay with their feet towards it, 
such being the usual practice of hunters when sleeping 
by a fire. When the feet are warm, the remainder of 
the body can easily be kept so ; but, on the contrary, 
when one’s feet become cold, it is scarcely possible to 
sleep. They were not troubled with cold, and all three 
were soon sleeping soundly. 

From the necessity of supplying the barbecue every 
now and then with fresh embers, a large fire had been 
kept up during the day. It still continued to blaze and 
crackle in a bright red pile. The meat remained 
resting upon the saplings, where it had been placed 
to dry. 

No one had thought of keeping watch. When 
camping out at night, in their hunting expeditions in 
the swamps of Eouisiana, they had not accustomed 
themselves to this habit, and they did not think of its 
being necessary here. It is the fear of Indians alone 
205 


Ube Bop IFDunters 


that causes the prairie traveller to keep sentry during 
the live-long night ; but our young hunters had much 
less fear of them than might be supposed. There had 
been as yet no hostilities in this quarter between whites 
and Indians ; besides, Basil knew that he carried a 
token of friendship should the latter come upon them. 

They had not been more than^half-an-hour asleep 
when a growl from Marengo awoke them. They all 
started up into a sitting posture, and looked anxiously 
out into the darkness. They could see nothing strange. 
The great trunks of the trees, with the long silvery 
moss of whitish hue, were glistening in the light of 
the still blazing fire. All the space between was 
gloomy and black as ebony. They could hear noth- 
ing that sounded strange. There was not a breath 
of air stirring, so that the trees were still and silent, as 
if asleep. Only up among their leaves and high tops, 
the tree-frogs {Hjloidea) and cicadas kept up their con- 
tinuous music. Amid their numerous and varied calls 
could be distinguished the ‘ ‘ 11-1-luk ’ ’ of the tree-toad 
{Hyla versicolor) ; and from the aquatic plants, that 
lined the spring close by, came the merry chirrup of 
the Hy lodes gryllus, or “Savanna cricket.” Far up 
among the leaves of the oaks the little green tree-frog 
repeated his tinkling bell-like note that fell with a 
pleasant sound upon the ear. But all these were the 
usual voices of the night — the voices of the southern 
forest — and they produced no strange impression upon 
206 


U Iftocturnal Hb\?enture 


the listening hunters. The call of the Hj/la, indeed, 
— loud and oft-repeated as it was — warned them that 
a rain-storm was near ; and the darkness of the sky 
above confirmed the warning. 

But it was not these sounds that had caused Marengo 
to spring up with such a savage growl ; and the boys 
continued attentively listening to discover what it could 
have been. 

The dark aisles of the forest sparkled with moving 
lights. The fire-flies were abroad in thousands ; and 
their phosphoric lamps, more than usually luminous, 
also betokened the approach of a rain-storm. 

As the young hunters gazed, other lights attracted 
their attention, causing them to hold their guns in 
readiness. These lights were ver}!^ different from those 
of the insects. They were low down near the surface 
of the ground. They were round, of a fiery green 
lustre, and appeared in motion. Now they remained 
shining steadily for some moments, then the}^ disap- 
peared, but immediately shone out afresh in some 
other place. There were many of them moving about. 
They were not fire-flies. 

Our hunters knew what they were — they were the 
eyes of animals — of wild beasts ! This they knew, but 
no more. What sort of animals they might be was a 
thing about which they were all three ignorant ; and 
this uncertainty very naturally filled them with dread. 
They might be bears, 7volverenes, or panthers, 

207 


Zbc JSop IF^unters 


The boys talked in whispers, looking to the locks 
of their pieces, and preparing themselves for the worst. 
They were, of course, already seen by the animals, sit- 
ting as they did in the light of the fire. Marengo 
stood b}", looking into the darkness, and at intervals 
uttering the growl with which he was accustomed to 
hail the presence of an enemy. 

The shining eyes appeared to multiply. All at once 
a dog was heard to utter three distinct barks. Was it 
a dog ? No. The long and piteous howl that followed 
told that the animal was no dog, but a w^olf — ^/le bark- 
ing-wolf {Canis latrans). The moment it had ceased, 
another took up the strain, and then another and an- 
other, until the woods rang on ’ all sides with their 
hideous howls. This did not come from any particu- 
lar side, but seemed everywhere ; and as the boys 
looked into the dark aisles between the tree-trunks, 
they could perceive glancing eyes — a perfect circle of 
them all around ! 

“Bah!” cried Basil, now breaking silence, “it’s 
only a pack of prairie wolves. Who cares for their 
howling ? ’ ’ 

The minds of all were thus set at rest. They had 
no fear of prairie wolves ; which, though fierce enough 
when attacking some poor deer or wounded buffalo, 
are afraid of anything in the shape of man ; and will 
skulk off, whenever they think the latter has any in- 
tention to attack them. This, however, is seldom the 
208 


H IKlocturnal Hbventure 


case, as the prairie hunter does not care to waste a 
bullet upon them ; and they are often permitted to 
follow, and squat themselves unmolested around the 
hunter’s camp, within reach of his rifle. 

The prairie wolves are much smaller than any other 
species of wolf found in America. They are not much 
larger than English terriers, and quite as cunning as 
the English fox. They can hardly be caught or trapped 
in any way— though they can be easily run down 
with houses and dogs. They are of a dull, reddish 
hue, mixed with a grizzle of white hairs. This is their 
usual colour, though, like other animals, there are 
varieties. They have thick bushy tails, black at the 
tips, and one-third the length of their bodies. They 
resemble the dogs found among the prairie Indians, of 
which they are, no doubt, the progenitors. They are 
met with throughout all the regions from the Missis- 
sippi westward to the Pacific, and southward into 
Mexico. They hunt in packs, like the jackals ; and 
will run down deer, buffaloes, or any other animals 
which they think they can master. They dare not 
attack a buffalo in the herd, though packs of them 
always follow a drove of these animals. They wait 
until some one gets separated — a young calf, or, per- 
haps, a decrepit old bull — which they fall upon and 
worry to pieces. They follow all parties of hunters 
and travellers — taking possession of a camp-ground, 
the moment its occupants have moved out, and devour- 


Ube Ibunters 


ing every scrap of eatables that may have been left 
behind. They will, even, sometimes steal into the 
camp by night, and appropriate the very morsel which 
the hunter had designed for his breakfast in the morn- 
ing. This sometimes leads to a spirit of retaliation : 
and the indignant hunter, growing less provident of 
his powder and lead, cracks away until he has laid 
several of them stretched along the grass. 

They are more numerous than any other species of 
American wolves ; and on this account — having so 
many mouths to feed, and so many stomachs to satisfy 
— they often suffer from extreme hunger. Then, but 
not till then, they will eat fruits, roots, and vegetables 
— in short, anything that may sustain life. 

These wolves take their trivial name from their be- 
ing met with principally on the great prairies of the 
west — although other species of American wolves are 
found in the prairie country as well as they. They are 
sometimes called ‘ ‘ barking ’ ’ wolves ; because, as we 
have noticed, the first two or three notes of their howl 
resemble the bark of a dog. It ends, however, in a 
prolonged and disagreeable scream. 

“ I am glad it is they,” said Tucien, in reply to 
Basil’s remark. “It is well it is no worse. I was 
afraid it was our friends, the javalies, who had come 
to pay us a visit.” 

” Bad enough as it is,” said Basil. “We shall now 
have to keep awake, and guard the meat, or these 


210 


H IRocturnal Hbventure 


skulking jackals would not leave us an ounce of it by 
morning.” 

“That is true enough,” replied Lucien ; “but we 
need not all watch. You and Francois go to sleep. 
I ’ll stand sentry.” 

“ No,” responded Basil. “ Go you and Francois to 
sleep. Fet me keep watch.” 

“ Brothers,” said Francois, “ I am not a bit sleepy ; 
let me be the sentry. I ’ll keep ’em off.” 

” No, no,” exclaimed Basil and Fucien, in a breath, 
“I— I.” 

It was finally agreed that Basil should take the watch 
for a couple of hours or so — until he became sleepy — 
when he was to awake and be relieved by Fucien ; 
who, in his turn, could arouse Francois. This being 
arranged, the two latter wrapped themselves in their 
blankets and lay down again, while Basil sat alone, 
now gazing into the fire, and then into the gloomy 
darkness beyond. 

Both Fucien and Francois, notwithstanding the 
declaration of the latter, were soon snoring like a brace 
of tops. They had had an early awaking by the bear- 
scrape of the previous morning ; besides, they had 
been at work all day, and were wearied. This they 
must have been, to have gone to sleep with such a dis- 
cordant howling around them — enough to have kept 
an opium-eater awake. Basil was wearied as well as 
they ; and he soon began to feel what a painful thing 


211 


Ubc 1F3unter5 


it is to keep awake when one is sleepy. The eyes of 
the wolves continued to glare upon him from all sides ; 
but he did not dread them any more than if they had 
been so many hares. There appeared to be a very 
large pack of them though. The odoriferous bear-meat 
had, no doubt, collected all there were for miles around 
— in addition to numbers that had been following the 
trail for days past. As Basil watched them, he saw 
they were growing bolder, and gradually approaching 
nearer. At length, some of them came upon the spot, 
where lay the bones of the bear at some distance out 
from the fire. These they attacked at once ; and 
through the dim hght Basil could see them rushing 
from all quarters to come in for a share. He could 
hear the bones cracking under their teeth, and could 
see them struggling and worrying the skeleton and 
each other in a moving mass. This soon ended. The 
bones were scraped clean in a twinkling ; and the 
wolves now left them, and scattered over the ground 
as before. 

“Come,” soliloquized Basil, “I must have more 
light ; they may steal a march upon me ; ’ ’ and he 
rose up and threw several armfuls of wood upon the 
fire, which soon blazed up again, reflecting the yellow 
eyes of the wolves in dozens of pairs all around him. 
This helped to brighten Basil a little, and keep him 
awake ; but he sat down again by the fire, and soon 
became drowsy as before. Every now and then he 


212 


H Irtocturnal HDventure 


caught himself nodding ; and, each time, as he shook 
himself awake, he noticed that the wolves had ven- 
tured nearer to the bear-meat. He could easily have 
shot any one of them, and thus drive them off for a time ; 
but he did not wish either to waste his ammunition, or 
startle his companions. 

As he sat cogitating how he would best keep awake, 
an idea came into his head, which caused him to leap 
to his feet, as if he intended to execute some purpose. 

‘ ‘ I have it now, ’ ’ said he to himself, placing his 
rifle against a tree. “I’ll get a good nap yet in spite 
of these filthy yelpers. Strange we didn’t think of 
the plan before. ’ ’ 

He took up the lasso, and proceeding to the bar- 
becue, which was close by, commenced laying all the 
pieces of bear-meat on one end of the rope. This did 
not occupy him long ; and, when he had bundled all 
and looped them securely together, he flung the other 
end of the lasso over a high branch, until it hung down 
so that he could reach it. He now pulleyed up the 
meat — until it was ten feet or more from the ground — 
and then fastened his rope to a log. 

“ Now, gentlemen,” muttered he, fancifully address- 
ing the wolves, ‘ ‘ you may prowl about and howl till 
3^our throats are sore, but you don’t keep me five min- 
utes longer from my rest — that you don’t.” 

So saying, he laid himself down, and commenced 
wrapping himself in his blankets. 


213 


trbe SSoy t)unter6 


“Ha!” he continued, as he caught a glimpse of 
several of the animals running forward and looking 
upwards at the swinging meat. “Ha! Messieurs 
lyoups, don’t you wish you may get it ? Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
Good night ! ” 

So speaking and laughing, he stretched himself 
alongside his brothers, and in five minutes’ time was 
snoring as loudly as either of them. 

But Basil, with all his craft, was not so cunning 
upon the present occasion as he thought himself — not 
half so cunning as the wolves, whom he believed he 
had outwitted. The latter, seeing that he had gone to 
sleep, boldly drew nearer and nearer, until scores of 
them covered the spot over which hung the meat. 
Here they ran about, tumbling over each other, and 
all looking upward. They remained silent, however, 
lest they might awake the sleepers. Some sat quietly 
on their hams with eyes fixed on the tempting morsel, 
but not making any effort to get at it, as they knew 
it was beyond their reach. These were, no doubt, the 
older and wiser ones. Others kept trying their prow- 
ess in lofty leaping ; but, although the most active of 
them could get their noses within a few inches of the 
meat, it only tantalised them the more. One, how- 
ever, who seemed the best jumper of the pack, at last 
succeeded in snatching a small piece that hung lower 
than the main bunch. He was immediately set upon 
as soon as he had touched the ground, and chased and 


214 


H Bocturnal H^venture 


worried by the rest, until he was glad to drop the mor- 
sel to save himself. His success, however, emboldened 
others to try ; and they went on springing upwards as 
before — but to no purpose. 

A new idea, however, seemed now to have got into 
the heads of the older ones ; they who up to this time 
had sat looking on. Several of these ran towards the 
log, where the lasso was tied ; and, seizing the latter 
in their teeth, commenced gnawing it ! It did not 
take them long to accomplish their purpose. In less 
than two minutes’ time, the heavy mass came down 
with a dead sound upon the shoulders of one of the 
pack, causing him to howl fearfully ! 

Marengo, who had been alert all this time, now 
growled louder than ever ; and the combined noises 
awoke the three sleepers. Basil saw what it was ; 
and, starting up, seized his rifle and ran forward, 
followed by Francois and Lucien. 

All three dashed in among the wolves, firing their 
pieces as they ran, and then rushing on them with 
‘ ‘ clubbed ’ ’ guns. The animals, of course, took to 
their heels, and scattered in every direction ; but some 
of them, in their flight, did not fail to carry off choice 
pieces of the bear-meat. Two were killed by the rifle- 
bullets ; and a third — which Francois had peppered 
with shot — was overtaken and worried to death by 
Marengo. 

The meat was soon gathered up ; and Basil, who 
215 


Ubc Ibunters 


though somewhat chagrined was still confident of his 
plan, once more looped it in the lasso, and pulleyed it 
up. This time, however, he tied the end of his rope 
to the high branch of a tree ; and as the wolves are 
not tree-climbers, all felt certain that, cunning as these 
creatures are, they could not reach it thus secured. 

After throwing more wood upon the fire, the three 
brothers again took to their blankets, expecting that 
nothing would occur to disturb them before the 
morning. 


216 


CHAPTER XXI. 


THE) CIRCLE) OF FIRF. 



HAT expectation, however, was a vain one. 


Poor lads ! they little thought what was before 


them. Their nerves were to be tried still farther, and 
by as severe a test as they had yet endured. The 
wolves howled fearfully around the camp, and their 
eyes still shone through the gloom. But this would 
not have kept the boys from sleeping, had their atten- 
tion not been called to another sound — the voice of a 
far different creature. They heard it amidst the howl- 
ing of the wolves, and knew it at once, for it resembled 
not these. It was more like the squalling of an angry 
cat, but far louder, fiercer, and more terrible. It was 
the scream of the cougar ! 

I say that the young hunters recognised the voice 
of this animal at once — for they had heard it while 
hunting in the forests of Louisiana, although they had 
never been exposed to its attack. From ample testi- 
mony, however, they knew its powder and fierce nature ; 
and were, therefore, terrified by its scream — as men 
of strongest nerves had often been before them. 


217 


Ubc Ibunters 


When its cry first reached their ears, it appeared 
‘feeble and distant — not louder than the mewing of a 
kitten. The animal was evidently far off in the forest. 
They knew, however, that it could soon traverse the 
ground that lay between it and their camp. They 
listened. A second scream sounded nearer. They 
sprang to their feet, and listened again. A third call 
appeared more distant. This, however, arose from a 
misconception on their part. They forgot that their 
ears were now faj'ther from the grou7id. 

They stood a moment gazing on each other with, 
looks of terror and apprehension. What was to be 
done ? 

‘ ‘ Shall we mount our horses and fly ? ” asked 
Basil. 

“We know not what way to go,” suggested Tucien. 

“ We may ride right into its teeth ! ” 

This was likely enough ; for it is a singular fact 
that the scream of the cougar, like the roar of the 
lion, seems to come from an}^ or every side. It is 
difficult to tell in what direction the animal is who 
utters it. Whether this illusion be produced by the 
terror of the listener is a question yet unsolved. 

‘ ‘ What can we do ? ” said Basil. ‘ ‘ Taking to a tree 
is of no use. These animals can climb like squirrels. 
What can we do ? ” 

Lucien stood silent, as if considering. 

“ I have read,” said he at length, “that the cougar 
218 


tlbe Circle of dfire 


will not cross fire. It is the case with most animals, 
although there are exceptions. I^et us try that. Hush ! 
lyisten ! ” 

All three remained silent. Again the cougar uttered 
his wild note, still far off. 

“ You hear,” continued lyucien ; ” he is distant yet. 
Perhaps he is not coming this way. It is best, how- 
ever, to be prepared while we have time. I^et us try 
the circle of fire ! ’ ’ 

Both Basil and Francois understood what their 
brother meant. All three flung down their rifles, and, 
rushing among the trees, collected dry wood in arm- 
fuls. Fortunately, this was in abundance near the 
spot. Some dead trees had fallen long ago ; and their 
branches, breaking into pieces as they fell, covered the 
ground with numerous fragments just fit for firewood. 
In the large pile already blazing, there was no lack of 
. kindling stuff ; and in a few minutes a complete circle 
of fires, almost touching one another, burnt upon the 
ground. 

The boys had lost no time, working as if for their 
lives. It was well they did so ; for the voice of the 
cougar, that they had heard at intervals, each time 
growing louder, now echoed through the aisles of the 
forest, drowning all other sounds. Strange to say, the 
howling of the wolves suddenly ceased, and these 
creatures were no longer to be heard. But there were 
other sounds audible — the stamping and snorting of 


219 


tTbe 1F)unter0 


the terrified horses. The young hunters, up to this 
time, had not thought of the safety of these poor 
animals. It was now too late to relieve them — the 
cougar was within a hundred yards of the camp ! 

All three, along with Marengo, placed themselves 
within the circle of fire. Fortunately, there was no 
wind — not a breath — and the smoke rose vertically up- 
ward, leaving them a breathing space within. There 
they stood, guns in hand. Around them the fires 
blazed and crackled ; but above the snapping of the 
knots, and the hiss of the spurting piping tree gas, 
could be heard the wild cry of the cougar ! It now 
became evident on what side the animal was ; for, as 
the young hunters peered through the smoke and 
blaze, they could distinguish the yellow cat-like body, 
moving to and fro under the hanging meat. The 
rounded head, the long hollow back, the smooth tawny 
skin, were not to be mistaken. As if to add to their 
terrible situation, the boys now saw that not one^ but a 
pair, of these fearful creatures were upon the ground, 
moving backward and forward, passing each other, and 
looking eagerly up at the meat where it hung. 

It now occurred to the hunters what an oversight 
they had made, in not cutting down the meat. Had 
they done so, the cougars would no doubt have de- 
voured it, and moved off after satisfying their hunger. 
Alas ! it was too late for such a thought. 

For several minutes the animals continued to walk 


220 




»y.-. 






THE CIRCLE OF FIRE 







Ubc Circle of ire 


backward and forward, eagerly eyeing the tempting 
object above them. Several times they sprang up, as 
if to seize it ; but their efforts fell far short, and they 
desisted. One of them now ran up the tree, to which 
the lasso was fastened. His claws could be heard rat- 
tling upon the bark as he sprang upward. He first 
climbed to the branch over which the bear-meat hung. 
This he shook with violence, looking downward, to 
see if the suspended object would fall. Disappointed, 
he left this after a time, and came down to the other 
branch, where the lasso was tied in a knot. Here he 
again seized the rope in his claws, and shook it with 
violence, but with a like result. Although he had the 
advantage of the wolves in being able to climb the 
tree, he had not /^ei'r cunning, else he would soon have 
let the meat down, by cutting the rope with his teeth. 
This idea, however, belonged to a higher development 
of brain than his ; and, after seizing the lasso several 
times, and shaking it as before, he returned to the 
ground to his mate, who had sat all the while watching 
his manoeuvres. 

These efforts to reach the meat occupied nearly 
an hour. During all that time the boys stood within 
the a’rde of fire, in the most distressing situation. 
They were half roasted by the heat, that had been all 
along increasing, as the black logs burned into red 
embers. They had made their circle too small ; and 
they stood as in the midst of a fiery furnace ! 


221 


XTbe :Bo^ IfDuuters 


The smoke had partially cleared away, and they 
could witness every movement of the cougars ; but 
the terrible heat that oppressed them had almost con- 
quered their fear of these animals ; and little would 
now have tempted them to rush forth and battle with 
them. The perspiration ran from every pore, and 
their guns felt like bars of hot iron ! 

‘ ‘ I can stand it no longer, ’ ’ cried Basil ; “let us fire 
at them, rush out, and take our chance.” 

“Patience, brother,” replied Tncien. “One mo- 
ment longer. Perhaps they may go away. ’ ’ 

As Lucien spoke, the cougars, who had now given 
up the bear’s meat, stealthily approached the fire. 
They crept forward like cats, when stealing upon their 
prey. At intervals they uttered a strange sound, like 
the low cough of a person in consumption. They 
gave forth another sound, which fell equally strange 
upcfn the ears of the hunters. It resembled the purr- 
ing of a cat when caressed ; but was much louder, 
and, in the forest, now silent, could be heard at a con- 
siderable distance. It was too plainly heard by those 
who were near. Both uttered it, as if to encourage 
one another in their approach ; and they kept crawling 
on, waving their tails as they advanced. When within 
a few feet of the fire, they stopped, and laid themselves 
almost flat along the ground — ^yet evidently prepared 
to spring forward at any moment. It was a terrible 
sight to look upon these fierce creatures as they lay. 


222 


Ube Circle of five 


The light of the great fire made every part of them 
fearfully apparent. Their claws, their teeth, half un- 
covered, and even the bright irides of their shining 
eyes were seen distinctly. But they looked not half so 
fearful as at first. The young hunters now contem- 
plated them from a different of view. They 

were suffering where they stood, so fearfully, that there 
seemed no danger beyond that hot circle of fire — not 
even from the claws of a cougar ! 

“ I shall stand it no longer,” cried Basil. ” We ’ll 
be roasted outright. You, brothers, take that one, I ’ll 
aim at this — so — now — fear not — fire ! ’ ’ 

As Basil ceased speaking, the three cracks sounded 
almost together ; and, as soon as they had fired, all 
three leaped out of the blazing cordon. Whether 
Tucien and Trangois had missed their aim was not 
known until afterwards ; but Basil had not missed his. 
He had wounded the cougar ; and scarcely had -the 
young hunters got clear of the fiery circle, when the 
infuriated animal sprang into it, and was seen, now 
upon its feet, and now rolling over the ground in the 
throes of death. Marengo attacked it ; but both got 
among the red cinders, and the dog was fain to make 
his escape out again. The cougar, left to itself, soon 
ceased its struggles, and lay upon the ground, to all 
appearance, dead. 

But what of the other ? 

As all three stood listening, the snorting and stamp- 


223 


Zbc Ibunters 


ing of horses fell upon their ears, and above all was 
heard the squealing of the mule Jeanette ! This 
lasted for a few minutes, and at length all was silent 
as before. 

“ Poor Jeanette ! ” thought they. “ The other has 
made a meal of her. Well — we must do without her, 
that’s all.” 

They kept watch until daybreak, still fearful that 
the cougar might come back for its mate. The rain 
had now begun to fall, and poured down in torrents, 
drowning out their fires. They did not attempt to re- 
kindle them ; but stood, with their blankets around 
their shoulders, sheltering themselves as they best 
could under the trees. 

When the daylight came, what was their surprise 
as well as joy to see Jeanette quietly browsing at the 
end of her trail-rope, and close by her the body of 
the cougar lying dead upon the ground ! It had 
been wounded by the shots ; but that, as they soon 
ascertained, was not the cause of its death, for its 
body was crushed and its ribs broken ! For some 
time they could not understand this. At length, 
however, it was explained to them. The situation in 
which the animal was found enabled them to clear 
up the mystery. It was lying by the foot of a large 
tree, against which, no doubt, it had got the squeeze 
that had killed it. While retreating it had sprung 
upon Jeanette ; and the latter, in her endeavours to 
224 


tTbe Ctrcle of ifire 


escape, had in the darkness rushed violently against 
the tree, crushing the cougar, and killing it instantly ! 

The fierce brute had left the trace of its claws upon 
Jeanette’s back and withers ; and a deep gash under 
her throat showed where its teeth had been buried. 
It was fortunate for the mule she had rushed against 
the tree, else the cougar would have held on until he 
had drunk the life-blood from her veins — as this is the 
mode by which these animals put their prey to death. 

It was now morning, but the young hunters, having 
been awake nearly all the night, were weary and could 
have gone to rest. This, however, they did not 
think prudent. They believed they had got them- 
selves into a part of the forest where there were many 
dangerous creatures, and they came to the determina- 
tion to shift their camp, and travel as far from the spot 
as possible before night. The truth is, they were 
upon a timbered stream — an affluent of the Trinity 
river ; and as the latter was at this season overflowed, 
all the wild animals — bears, cougars, wolves, lynxes, 
and javalies — had been driven out of the low bottoms, 
and were roaming through the adjacent woods, more 
hungry and fierce than they commonly are. 

Having saddled their horses, and packed Jeanette 
with their robes, blankets, and meat, our adventurers 
again took the route westward. After proceeding a few 
miles they issued from the woods, and struck out into 
the open prairie. 

*5 


225 


CHAPTER XXII. 


Tun no^n mound , 


HEIR route led them through one of those lovely 



landscapes which are met with only in this 


southern region — a flower prairie. They travelled in 
the midst of flowers. Flowers were before them, 
behind, and on every side. Their shining corollas 
covered the prairie as far as the eye could see. There 
were golden sunflowers (Jielianthi), and red malvas, 
euphorbias, and purple lupins. There were the rose- 
coloured blossoms of the wild althea, and the brilliant 
orange of Californian poppies — glancing among the 
green leaves like so many balls of fire — while lower 
upon the surface grew the humble violas, sparkling 
like azure gems. 

The glorious sun was shining over all ; and the late 
rain that had washed them seemed to have added to 
the fragrance and brilliancy. Millions of butterflies flew 
over them, or rested in their soft cups, not less brilliant 
than the flowers themselves. Some of these were of 
vast dimensions, their downy wings speckled and 
striped with varied and gorgeous tints. There were 


XTbe Xone /Ibounb 


other insects of gay colours and glancing wings. The 
giant spider-fly flew around, now poised on whirring 
wing, and now darting off like a thread of lightning to 
some other part of the boundless garden. There were 
bees, too ; and bee-birds humming from flower to flower 
and robbing their rich nectaries. Now and then par- 
tridges and ruffed grouse whirred up before the horses ; 
and Francois succeeded in shooting a brace of the 
latter, and hanging them behind his saddle. 

Through these great flower-beds our travellers rode 
on, crushing many a beautiful corolla under their 
horses’ hoofs. Sometimes the flowers grew upon tall 
stalks that stood thickly together, and reached up to 
the shoulders of the horses, completely hiding them 
from the view of one at a distance. Sometimes the 
travellers passed through beds of helianthi alone — 
whose large heads, brushing against their thighs, 
covered them with yellow pollen-dust. 

It was, altogether, a rare and beautiful landscape ; 
and the young hunters would have enjoyed it much, 
had they not been suffering from weariness and want 
of sleep. The fragrance of the flowers seemed at first 
to refresh them ; but after a while they became sensible 
of a narcotic influence which it exercised over them, as 
they felt more sleepy than ever. They would have en- 
camped among them, but there was no water ; and with- 
out water they could not remain. There was no grass, 
either, for their animals ; as, strange to say, upon these 


227 


XTbe Ibunters 


flower-prairies grass is seldom met with. The flower- 
stalks usurp the soil, and no turf is ever found about 
their roots. The travellers, therefore, were compelled 
to ride on, until they should reach some spot having, 
grass and water — two of the necessary requisites of a 
“ night-camp.” 

After proceeding about ten miles the flowers began 
to appear more thinly scattered over the surface, and 
at length declined into the^rass prairie. Two or three 
miles farther brought our adventurers to a small 
“spring branch” that ran through the open plain, 
with no timber upon its banks, except a few willows. 
Here they were glad to halt for the night, and they 
dismounted, and staked their animals upon the tempt-, 
ing sward. 

All three were weary, and could have slept ; but they 
were hungry as well, and must first eat — so they set 
about preparing supper. The willows were green, and 
would not burn very well ; but by dint of perseverance 
they managed to make a fire. Fran9ois’ grouse were 
plunged into the kettle. These, seasoned with wild 
onions, nasturtium, and prairie turnips — which Tucien 
had gathered along the route, — made a dish that was 
far from unpalatable. The stock of bear- meat was not 
touched — with the exception of a small piece, which, 
with the heads and other refuse parts of the grouse, 
formed the supper of Marengo. As soon as they had 
finished eating, the hunters spread their buffalo robes 
228 


trbe !iLone /Ibounb 


upon the grass ; and, drawing their blankets over them, 
went off into a sound sleep. 

This night they were not disturbed. When awake 
they could hear the howling of wolves upon the dis- 
tant prairie, and near their camp. But they were used 
to this serenading music, and did not regard it. All 
three slept soundly throughout the live-long night. 

They were awake by grey dawn, and felt quite re- 
freshed. They watered their horses, and prepared 
their breakfast of jerked bear-meat. This is not bad 
eating at any time ; but to appetites like theirs it was 
a luxury indeed ; and they broke their fast cleverly 
enough — eating nearly a pound a-piece. They all felt 
quite merry and jocund. Marengo was merry, though 
the claws of the cougar had scored his countenance 
sadly. Jeanette, too, frisked about, kicking at the 
flies as she fed. Basil had given her shanks a fresh 
touch of the bear’s grease ; and the scars which the 
cougar had made were likely to cicatrize speedily. 
They remained all next day by that sweet spring, and 
enjoyed another night of undisturbed rest. On the 
second morning they continued their journey, and in 
a few days reached the “ Cross Timbers,” — those cele- 
brated groves that have so long puzzled the specula- 
tions of the curious naturalist. Our travellers did not 
remain long by them — as they saw no signs of the 
buffalo — but kept still farther to the west, crossing the 


229 


tibe Bog Ibunters 


head-waters of numerous streams that run into the 
river Brazos. 

About the third day, after leaving the Cross Tim- 
bers, they encamped on one of these streams — a very 
small one — that meandered through the prairie, with- 
out any timber upon its banks. But our travellers did 
not feel the want of this, as they could make their fire 
out of an article — the sight of which had been gladden- 
ing their eyes during the whole of that day’s journey. 
It was the bois de vache, or buffalo “chips,” as it is 
called by the trappers ; and they knew that where this 
was found, the buffaloes themselves would not be far off. 
They had now got within the range of these animals ; 
and might expect to fall in with them at any moment. 

As soon as the next day dawned, the eyes of our 
hunters sought the prairie, but as yet no buffaloes 
were in sight. Nothing could be seen but the green 
treeless plain, stretching on all sides as if to the very 
sky. Only one object could be observed that gave a 
variety to the aspect around. This was an eminence 
that rose over the sea-like surface of the prairie — 
called in the language of the hunters, a “ butte.” It 
appeared ten miles distant, at least ; and seemed to 
stand alone, its steep sides rising like cliffs above the 
prairie level. It lay in the course they had hitherto 
been travelling. 

“Shall we make for it?” asked they of one an- 
other. 


230 


Ube Xone /IDounb 


“ What better can we do?” said Basil. “We are 
as likely to meet the buffalo in that direction as in any 
other. We have no guide now ; so we must trust to 
our good fortune to lead us to them, or them to us — 
which is about the same thing, I fancy.” 

‘ ‘ Oh ! let us ‘ catch up, ’ ’ ’ advised Francois, ‘ ‘ and 
ride for the butte. We may find buffalo near it.” 

‘ ‘ But what if we find no water ? ’ ’ suggested the ever 
prudent Fucien. 

“ That is not likely,” returned Francois. “ I ’ll war- 
rant there ’s water — there generally is where there are 
mountains, I believe ; and yonder butte might almost 
be called a mountain. I ’ll warrant there ’s water.” 

“ If there ’s not,” added Basil, “ we can return 
here.” 

“But, brothers,” said Fucien, “you know not the 
distance of that eminence.” 

“ Ten miles, I should think,” said Basil. 

“ Not more, certainly,” added Francois. 

“ It is thirty, if an inch,” quietly remarked Fucien. 

“ Thirty ! ” exclaimed the others ; “ thirty miles !. 
You are jesting, are you not? Why, I could almost 
lay my hand upon it ! ” 

“This is a misconception of yours,” rejoined the 
philosopher. “You are both calculating distances 
as you would in the low dense atmosphere of Fouisi- 
ana. Remember you are now four thousand feet above 
the level of the sea, and surrounded by one of the pur- 


231 


Ube IFDunters 


est and most translucent atmospheres in the world. 
Objects can be seen double the distance that you could 
see them on the banks of the Mississippi. That butte, 
which you think is only ten miles off, appears to me 
fifteen, or rather more ; and I therefore calculate that 
it is at least thirty miles distant from the spot where 
we now are.” 

“Impossible!” exclaimed Basil, eyeing the butte. 
“Why, I can see the seams of the rocks on its sides, 
and trees, I fancy, growing upon its top.” 

“Well,” continued Lucien, “with all that you’ll 
find I am not far from the mark. But let us strike for 
it, since you wish it. We shall meet with water there, 
I suppose ; take notice, however, — we ’ll have to jour- 
ney all day before reaching it ; and we may consider 
ourselves fortunate if we get there before nightfall.” 

Tucien’s prudence was not too great. On the 
contrary, it was not even sufficient for the occasion. 
This arose from his want of experience on the prai- 
ries. If either he or his brothers had had a little 
more of this, they would have hesitated before strik- 
ing out so boldly, and leaving the water behind 
them. They would have known that, to make a 
long journey, without the certainty of finding water 
at the end of it, is a risk that even the old hunters 
themselves will seldom undertake. These, from 
experience, well know the danger of being without 
water on the prairies. They dread it more than 
232 


XTbe %onc /Ibounb 


grizzly bears, or panthers, or wolverenes, or even 
hostile Indians. The fear of thirst is to them the 
greatest of all terrors. 

Our young hunters felt but little of this fear. It 
is true they had, all of them, heard or read of the 
sufferings that prairie travellers sometimes endure 
from want of water. But people who live snugly at 
home, surrounded by springs, and wells, and streams, 
with cisterns, and reservoirs, and pipes, and hydrants, 
and jets, and fountains playing at all times around 
them, are prone to underrate these sufferings ; in 
fact, too prone, might I not say, to discredit every- 
thing that does not come under the sphere of their 
own observation ? They will readily believe that 
their cat can open a door-latch, and their pig can 
be taught to play cards, and that their dog can do 
wonderful things, savouring of something more than 
instinct. But these same people will shake their 
heads incredulously, when I tell them that the 
opossum saves herself from an enemy by hanging 
suspended to the tree-branch by her tail, or that the 
big-horn will leap from a precipice lighting upon his 
horns, or that the red monkeys can bridge a stream 
by joining themselves to one another by their tails. 

“Oh! nonsense!” they exclaim; “these things 
are too strange to be true.” And yet, when com- 
pared with the tricks their cat and dog can play, and 
even the little canary that flits about the drawing- 

233 


XTbe Ibunters 


room, do they seem either strange or improbable? 
The absent and distant are always regarded with 
wonder and incredulity ; while familiar facts, in them- 
selves far more wonderful, neither excite curiosity 
nor challenge credulity. Who now regards the start- 
ling phenomenon of the electric wire otherwise than 
as a simple truth easily comprehended ? And yet 
there was a time — ah ! there was a time — when to 
have proclaimed this truth would have rendered you 
or me ridiculous. There was a time, indeed, when it 
might have cost us our lives or our liberties. Re- 
member Galileo ! 

I was saying, then, that people who live at home 
do not know what thirst is ; for home is a place where 
there is always water. They cannot comprehend what 
it is to be in the desert without this necessary element. 
Ha ! I know it ; and I give you my word for it, it is 
a fearful thing. 

Our young hunters had but a faint idea of its 
terrors. Hitherto their route had been through a 
well-watered region — scarcely ever running ten or a 
dozen miles without crossing some stream with timber 
upon it, which they could see a long way off, and 
thus guide themselves to the water ; but they little 
understood the nature of the country that was now 
before them. They knew not that they were enter- 
ing upon the desert plains — those vast arid steppes 


234 


Zhc %onc /IDounb 


that slope up to the foot of the Rocky Mountains — 
the Cordilleras of the Northern Andes. 

Frangois, rash and impetuous, never dreamt of 
danger ; Basil, courageous, did not fear it ; Rucien 
had some misgivings, because he had heard or read 
more of it than the others. All, however, were 
curious to visit the strange, mound-looking eminence 
that rose out of the plain. This was quite natural. 
Even the rude savage and the matter-of-fact trapper 
often diverge from their course, impelled by a similar 
curiosity. 

The horses were watered and saddled ; Jeanette 
was packed ; the water-gourds were filled ; and our 
adventurers, having mounted, rode forward for the 
“butte.” 


235 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


THK HUNT OF THF WIUD HORSF. 

HERE must be buffalo in this neighbourhood,” 



said Basil, looking to the ground as they 


rode on. ” These ‘ chips ’ are very fresh. They can- 
not have lain for many days. See ! there is a buffalo 
road covered with tracks ! ’ ’ 

As Basil said this, he pointed to a trough-like 
hollow in the prairie, running as far as the eye could 
reach. It looked like the dry bed of a stream ; but 
the hoof-tracks in the bottom showed that it was 
what he had called it, — a buffalo-road, leading, no 
doubt, to some river or watering-place. It was so 
deep that, in riding along it, the heads of our trav- 
ellers were on a level with the prairie. It had been 
thus hollowed out by the water during heavy rains, 
as the soil, previously loosened by the hoofs of the 
buffaloes, w^as then carried off to the rivers. Such 
roads the buffaloes follow at times, thousands of 
them keeping in the same trail. They travel thus 
when they are migrating in search of better pas- 
tures, or water — to which they know by experience 
the roads will conduct them. 


236 


XTbe Ibunt of tbe Milb Iborse 


Our hunters did not follow this road far, as there 
was no certainty that it would bring them to where the 
animals then were. They crossed over, and kept on 
for the butte. 

“ Voilh!^' cried Francois, “what are these?” Fran- 
cois pointed to several circular hollows that appeared 
in the prairie before them. 

“ Buffalo wallows, I declare ! ” said Basil : “ some 
of them are quite fresh too ! ” 

“ Buffalo wallows ! ” echoed Francois; “what are 
they?” 

“Why, have you never heard of them, Frank?” 
asked Basil. “ Places where the buffaloes wallow and 
tumble like horses and farm-cattle.” 

“ Oh, that ’s it,” said Francois ; “ but what do they 
do it for?” 

“ Well, that I don’t know. Perhaps Luce can tell.” 

“ Some say,” said Lucien, thus appealed to, “ they 
do it to scratch themselves, and get rid of the flies and 
other insects that annoy them. Others believe that 
they practice this curious exercise only by way of 
diversion.” 

“ Ha ! ha ! ha ! ” laughed Francois, “ what funny 
fellows they must be ! ” 

“There is yet another more curious explanation,” 
continued Lucien, “which is this: that the buffaloes 
make these hollows to catch water when it rains, so that 
they may come back to them and drink ! ” 

237 


Ubc Ibuntets 


“ Ha ! ha ! ha ! ” again laughed Francois ; “ I can’t 
believe that, brother.” 

* “I would not have you neither, ’ ’ said Fucien ; “ of 
course, the supposition is not true — as. the buffalo is 
not an animal possessing sufficient intelligence for that. 
It is only offered as a curious suggestion. It is cer- 
tain, however, that the water collects in these holes 
during rain-time, and often remains there for days ; 
and the buffaloes, wandering about, drink out of them. 
Therefore, it may, in one sense, be truly said that the 
buffaloes dig their own wells! These often prove of 
service to other animals, as well as those who have 
made them. Tost trappers and Indians have been 
saved by finding water in them, when otherwise they 
would have perished from thirst.” 

” How very round they are ! ” said Francois ; “ why, 
they are perfect circles ! How do the buffaloes make 
them so ? ” 

“ By laying themselves out at full length and spin- 
ning round and round like a wagon-wheel upon its 
nave. They revolve with great rapidity, using their 
humped shoulders as a pivot, and their legs as levers. 
They sometimes continue this motion for half an hour 
at a time. No doubt they do this, as has been said, to 
scratch themselves ; for, notwithstanding their thick 
hides and hair, they are much annoyed by insect 
parasites. They do it, too, for amusement, or to give 
themselves pleasure, which is the same thing. You 
238 


Ubc IfDunt of tbe Milb Iborse 


have often witnessed horses at a similar exercise ; and 
was it not evident that they took a pleasure in it? 
Have you not fancied so ? ” 

“ Oh, yes,” cried Francois, “lam sure horses enjoy 
a good tumble.” 

“Well, then, it is to be supposed the buffaloes do 
the same. Getting rid of their tormentors, and pressing 
their hot sides into the fresh cool earth, is, no doubt, a 
source of enjoyment to them. They are not very clean- 
ly ; as they are often seen wandering about so covered 
with dirt that one cannot tell what colour their hide is.” 

“Well!” added Francois, “I hope we shall soon 
come across one with a white hide I ” 

Talking after this fashion, our young hunters con- 
tinued their journey. They had ridden about ten 
miles when Basil — whose eye was all the time wander- 
ing around the prairie horizon — uttered an exclama- 
tion, and suddenly reined up his horse. The others, 
seeing him do so, stopped also. 

“ What do you see ? ” asked Tucien. 

“I do not know,” replied Basil; “but there is 
something yonder upon the edge of the prairie — to the 
southward — do you see it ? ” 

“Yes ; it looks like a clump of low trees.” 

“No,” said Basil; “ they are not trees. This mo- 
ment I saw one apart from the rest, and I do not see it 
now. It appeared to move in toward the mass. I 
fancy they are animals of some kind or other.” 

239 


Ube Ibunter^ 


“Buffaloes, I hope ! “ cried Francois, raising him- 
self to his full height in the stirrups, and endeavouring 
to get a sight of them. But Francois’ pony did not 
give him a sufficient elevation to enable him to see the 
objects ; and he was, therefore, compelled to withhold 
an opinion as to what they might be. 

“Should we ride towards them?” asked Fucien, 
addressing Basil. 

“I think they are moving this way,” replied the 
latter. “They extend more along the horizon, and 
that may be because they are getting nearer. Buffa- 
loes ! no — as I live, ’ ’ continued he, elevating his 
voice, “they are horsemen — perhaps mounted In- 
dians ! ” 

“Why do you think so?” inquired Fucien, hur- 
riedly. 

“ I saw one between me and the sky. I can tell the 
shape of a horse as far as I can see him. I am sure it 
was one. Fook ! yonder goes another ! ” 

“It is,” added Fucien ; “it is a horse. But see! 
there is no rider — no one on his back ; and yonder ’s 
another, also without a rider. Ha I I know now — they 
are mustangs ! ’ ’ 

“ Mustangs ! ” echoed Francois ; “ good I — that will 
be something worth seeing.” 

It soon proved that Fucien was right. It was a 
drove of mustangs, or wild horses. Basil was also 
right in saying that they were coming towards them ; 

240 


trbe Ibunt of tbe Milb Iborse 


for in a few moments they appeared to be within less 
than a mile, approaching at a rapid gallop. 

They galloped closely together like a trained troop ; 
and one could be perceived some lengths in the advance 
apparently acting as leader. Now and then one would 
shy out of the ranks, and rear a moment apart from 
the rest, but would return again, and fall in with his 
companions. It was a rare sight to see them as they 
came on ; and the ground thundered under their hoofs 
as though a squadron of cavalry was charging over it. 

When within less than half a mile of the party, 
they seemed to notice the latter for the first time. 
All at once the foremost halted, threw up his head 
with a sfiort, and stood still. The others stopped, 
imitating the example of their leader. The latter was 
still some paces in the advance ; while the breasts of 
his followers seemed to form a compact front, like cav- 
alry in line of battle ! After .standing still for a few 
seconds, the leader uttered a shrill neigh, shied to the 
right, and dashed off at full speed. The others an- 
swered the call ; and, instantly wheeling into the same 
direction, followed after. The movement was executed 
with the precision of a troop ! 

Our hunters supposed the horses were about to pass 
them, and part company without coming closer.* They 
all regretted this, as they were desirous of having a 
nearer view of these noble creatures. In order not to 
alarm them as they were coming up, all three had taken 


x 6 


241 


Ube tbunters 


the precaution to dismount ; and now stood partially 
screened by their own horses, yet holding the latter 
firmly — as these were terrified by the thundering tramp 
of the wild steeds. 

In a moment the mustangs appeared opposite — that 
is, with their sides turned to the hunters ; and the lat- 
ter now saw with joy that they were not passing away, 
but galloping in a circle — of which they, the spectators, 
were the centre ! 

The circle in which the horses ran was scarcely half 
a mile in diameter, and thej^ appeared to be approach- 
ing nearer to the centre. In fact, they were not follow- 
ing the circumference of a circle, but a spiral curve that 
contracted gradually inward. 

The boys had now a fair view of them, and a beauti- 
ful sight it was. There were about two hundred in all, 
but they were of difierent colours — scarcely two of 
them being marked alike. There were black and 
white ones, and bay and roan. Some were brown, 
some sorrel, and some of an iron-grey ; and there 
were others — many of them — mottled and spotted like 
hounds ! All had flowing manes and long waving 
tails ; and these streamed behind them as they gal- 
loped, adding to the gracefulness of their appearance. 
It was, in truth, a beautiful sight, and the hearts of 
the boys bounded within them, while their eyes fol- 
lowed the moving troop as it circled round and round. 

But the eyes of all three soon centred upon one — the 
242 


Ube IF^unt of tbe Mtlb Iborse 


leader, and a fairer object none of them had ever be- 
held. Basil, who loved a fine horse more than any 
living thing, was in an ecstasy as he gazed upon this 
beautiful creature. It was no wonder, for a more per- 
fect-looking animal could hardly have been conceived. 
He was larger than any of the herd, though still under 
the size of an English horse. His full chest and promi- 
nent eyeballs — his well-bound flanks and quarters — 
his light cylindrical limbs and small finely-shaped 
hoofs, showed of what race he was — an Arab of the 
Andalusian breed — a descendant of the noble steeds 
that carried the first conquerors of Mexico. His pro- 
portions were what a judge would have pronounced 
perfect; and Basil, who, in fact, was a judge, had al- 
ready said so. He was white all over — white as the 
mountain-snow. As he galloped, his nostrils appeared 
open and red, his eyes stood prominently forth, his mane 
was tossed on both sides of his neck from his crest to 
his withers, and his long tail streamed horizontally be- 
hind him. His free, graceful movements — like those of 
all his followers — showed that no saddle had ever been 
laid across his back. 

As Basil gazed upon this noble creature, he became 
imbued with an irresistible desire to possess him. It 
is true he already had a horse, and as fine a one as 
ever wore saddle ; but it was Basil’s weakness to covet 
every fine horse he saw; and this one had inspired 
him with a most particular longing to become his 
243 


XTbe HDunters 


owner. In a few seconds’ time, so eager had grown 
this desire, that Basil felt as if he would have given 
all he had in the world — Black Hawk, perhaps, ex- 
cepted — to be the master of this prairie steed. Throw- 
ing a lasso, as Basil could, and mounted as he was, it 
would strike you that he might soon have gratified his 
wish ; but it was not so easy a thing, and Basil knew 
that. He knew that he might without difficulty over- 
take and fling his noose over some of the ‘ ‘ fags ’ ’ of 
the herd ; but to capture the leader was quite another 
thing — a feat never accomplished upon the prairies^ even 
by the Indians themselves. He had often heard this ; 
nevertheless, he was determined to try. He had great 
confidence in the speed and bottom of Black Hawk. 

He communicated his determination to his brothers, 
in a whisper — lest he might frighten the mustangs, 
now circling very near. lyucien tried to dissuade him, 
offering as a reason, that it would lead them from their 
course, and might separate them from each other. 

“ No,” said Basil. ” Go on to the butte, you and 
Francois. I shall come to you — perhaps I may be 
there before you. Do not say a word, brother, — 3^011 
need not. I must have that horse ; and I shall capture 
him if it cost me a fifty-mile gallop.’ 

While Basil was speaking, he drew closer to his left 
stirrup, looked to the lasso that hung coiled upon the 
horn of his saddle, and then stood ready to mount. 
Tucien saw it was of no use to urge his advice further, 
244 


tCbe ■fcunt of tbe Milb Iborse 


and ceased to interfere. Francois would fondly have 
joined Basil in the chase ; but his diminutive pony 
rendered the idea too absurd to be acted upon. 

During all this time the wild horses had continued 
their evolutions. At intervals they would halt at a 
signal from their leader, and wheel into line, facing 
inward towards the little group. In this position they 
would remain for a few seconds, with heads erect, 
gazing with curious wonder at the strange intruders 
upon their domain. Some of them would paw the 
ground, and snort as if in anger. Then the foremost 
would utter his shrill neigh, and all would go off again, 
circling about as before. 

They had got within less than two hundred yards of 
where the hunters stood, but it was evident they 
intended coming no nearer. On the contrary, they 
showed symptoms of bearing off. At each fresh 
movement from a halt, they turned their heads for the 
prairie, and then came circling back again — as though 
they had not yet quite satisfied their curiosity. 

During their last halt — or what Basil believed might 
be the last — he again cautioned his brothers to keep on 
to the butte, and quietly placing his foot in the stirrup, 
vaulted into the saddle. The movement caused the 
mustangs to start ; but, before they could turn them- 
selves, the young hunter had plied the spur, and made 
several springs towards them across the prairie. He 
looked not at the drove— he cared not which way they 


245 


Ubc 3Boi^ irDuntets 


might go — his eye rested only on the white leader, 
and towards him he rode in full charge. 

The latter, when he saw this sudden movement, 
stood for a moment, as if in surprise. Then giving 
a wild neigh — far different from any of the calls he 
had hitherto uttered — wheeled to the right, and led off 
in a gallop, the rest following at the top of their speed. 
As the rearmost came round upon the prairie, Basil 
was not a dozen yards from them ; and in a few springs 
had got so close that he could easily have thrown his 
lasso over some of them. In turning, however, he 
was left far behind ; but he soon recovered his distance 
and spurred on, bearing slightly to one side of the 
drove. He did not wish to get in amongst them — as 
he believed that might be dangerous, and would only 
impede him. His object was to head the drove, or in 
some way to separate the leader from the others. 
This was what he wanted first ; and to this task he 
bent himself with all his energy. 

On flew the wild steeds, straining themselves to their 
utmost speed. On followed the hunter, — apparently 
in reckless pursuit, but carefully guiding his horse as 
he rode. His lasso hung at his saddle-pack. He had 
not yet touched it — time enough for that. 

On flew the wild horses, and closer followed the 
daring hunter, until miles of the prairie lay between 
him and the starting-point. In a few minutes he was 
no longer visible to those he had left behind. 

246 


Ubc 1bunt of tbe Milb Iborse 


But the small Andalusian steeds were no match for 
the Godolphin Arab. The herd had changed its shape. 
The horses no longer ran in a body, but in a long 
string — each taking place according to his speed — and 
far in advance of all, like a meteor, glanced the snow- 
white leader. 

The hindmost were soon passed — each swerving off 
from the track, as soon as he saw himself headed by the 
great dark horse that carried the strange and dreaded 
object upon his back. One by one they were passed, 
until Black Hawk had forged ahead of the whole 
drove ; and his rider now saw nothing before him but the 
white steed, the green prairie, and the blue sky. He 
looked not back. Had he done so, he would have seen 
the mustangs scattering in every direction over the 
plain. But he looked not back. All that he now 
cared for was before him ; and he plied the spur freshly 
and galloped on. 

He ’ had no need to use the spur. Black Hawk 
seemed to think that his credit rested upon the result, 
and the faithful brute was doing his best. On the 
other hand, the wild horse felt that his life, or at least 
his freedom, depended upon it, and this was enough to 
urge kim to his utmost. Both flew like the wind — 
pursuer and pursued. 

As they .parted from the herd, there was not more 
than three hundred yards between them ; and they 
must have passed over some miles afterwards, before 
247 


TLbc Ibunters 


this distance was greatly lessened. Their line of flight 
was as straight as an arrow ; and from this it was evi- 
dent that the mustang usually trusted to his hoofs to 
save him from his enemies. 

In a race like this, however, the pursuer has the ad- 
vantage of the pursued. The latter, always anxious, is 
constrained to look back ; and is, therefore, less sure of 
the ground that lies before. He loses his proper atti- 
tude for speed, and is besides in danger of stumbling. 
So it was with the wild horse. He did not stumble — 
he was too sure of foot for that — but his head was 
occasionally thrown to one side, until his large dark 
eye commanded a view of his enemy behind him. 
This, of course, to some extent, retarded him. It was 
only at these moments that Basil could gain upon him ; 
and the proofs he thus gave of his superior powers, 
only rendered the latter the more eager to capture and 
possess him. 

After a long chase the difierence between them was 
still two hundred paces at the least. The young 
hunter, with a feeling of impatience, once more plied 
the spur in a fresh effort to come up ; while the other 
seemed to spring forward as swiftly as ever. 

All at once Basil observed that the white steed, in- 
stead of running straight forward, appeared to go from 
side to side, moving in crooked lines ! Ba3il saw this 
with surprise. He looked to discover the cause. As 
his eye glanced along the ground, he perceived that it 
248 


Ube Ibunt ot tbe Milb IFDorse 


was uneven — covered, as far as he could see, with little 
hillocks. The mustang was among them. It was 
this, then, that was causing him to run so strangely. 
Basil had hardly made the observation, when he felt 
his horse sink suddenly under him, and tumble head- 
long upon the prairie ! 

The rider was flung from his seat, though not much 
hurt. He rose at once to his feet. Black Hawk strug- 
gled up at the same time, and stood still, his wet flanks 
rising and falling as he breathed and panted. He was 
not in a condition to gallop farther. But even had he 
been fresh, Basil saw that the chase was now at an end. 
The little hillocks, which he had just noticed, stood 
thick upon the prairie, as far as the eye could reach ; 
and among these the wild horse was gliding off as 
swiftly as ever. When the hunter got to his feet again, 
the other was nearly a quarter of a mile distant, and at 
that moment sent back a shrill neigh, as if triumphing 
over his escape — for he had escaped beyond a doubt. 

Basil saw this with chagrin. He saw that further 
pursuit was not only useless, but dangerous; for al- 
though he had never seen anything like these little 
mounds before, he knew very well what they were, and 
the danger of riding at a rapid rate among them. He 
had received a timely lesson — for he was just entering 
their borders when his horse fell — fortunately to rise 
again with sound limbs. He knew he might not get 
off so safely a second time, and he had no inclination 
249 


Ube Ibunters 


to take the chances of another tumble. He was not 
going to risk the loss of his favourite Black Hawk for 
the white steed, even had he been certain of capturing 
the latter. But this was no longer likely. On the 
contrary, he might, instead of making a capture, lose 
his own horse, were he to continue the chase ; and that 
he well knew would be a terrible situation. With the 
best grace he could, therefore, he abandoned the pur- 
suit, leaving the mustang to scamper off alone. He 
watched him for several minutes, until the latter, far, 
far away, faded like a white cloud into the pale blue 
of the horizon. 

The young hunter now bethought him of returning 
to his companions. In what direction was he to go ? 
He looked around for the butte. There it was ; but, 
to his astonishment, it lay directly before him, and 
nearer than when he last saw it ! He had been all 
this while galloping towards it ; but in his haste had 
not noticed this. Tucien and Fran9ois must be behind, 
thought he, and would soon come that way. The best 
thing he could do, therefore, would be to wait until 
they should come up ; and, with this intention, he sat 
down upon one of the little hillocks, leaving his horse 
to wander about at will. 


250 


CUAPTER XXIV. 


A DOG TOWN. 

B EACK hawk strayed off to some distance in 
search of grass, for the latter was scanty near 
the^ spot ; and what there was of it had been eaten as 
dole to the ground, as if a thousand rabbits had been 
feeding upon it ! Basil did not hinder his horse from 
going. He knew that he was too well trained to run 
away, and that he could recall him at any moment by 
a whistle. He sat still, therefore ; now scanning the 
prairie to the eastward, and now endeavouring to 
kill time by examining the strange little mounds on 
the other side^ Of these there were thousands — indeed, 
they covered the plain both to north and south and 
west as far as Basil could see. They were shaped like 
truncated cones, about three feet in diameter at the 
base, and not over two in height. Near the top of 
each was the entrance — a hole not much larger than 
would have been used by a rat. There was no grass 
immediately around this hole, although the sides and 
tops of the mounds were clothed with a smooth green 
251 


Ube t)unter5 


turf that gave them the appearance of having been 
constructed a long time ago. 

The inhabitants of these singular dwellings soon 
began to show themselves. They had been terrified 
by the thundering tread of the steeds, and had hidden 
at their approach. All was now silent again, and 
the}^ thought they might venture abroad. First one 
little snout peeped out, and then another, and another, 
until every hole had a head and a pair of sparkling 
eyes looking forth. After a while the owners of the 
heads became more courageous, and boldly stepped 
out-of-doors ; and then could be seen hundreds of these 
strange creatures. They were of a reddish brown 
colour, with breasts and bellies of a dirty white. Their 
bodies were about the size of the common grey squirrel ; 
but their general appearance partook of the squirrel, 
the weasel, and the rat — all three of which they in some 
respects resembled, and 5"et were not like any of them. 
They were a distinct species of animals. They were 
Marmots^ that species known by the fanciful appella- 
tion of “ prairie dogs ” {Arctomys ludoviciana) . Their 
tails were very short, and not bushy as those of squir- 
rels ; and altogether their bodies had not the graceful 
symmetry of these animals. In a short time every 
mound had two or three on its top — for several individ- 
uals dwell together in the same house. Some sat upon 
all-fours, while others erected themselves on their 
hind feet, and stood up like little bears or monkeys — 


252 


H Bog XTown 


all the while flourishing their tails and uttering their 
tiny barking, that sounded like the .squeak of a toy 
dog. It is from this that they derive the name of 
“ prairie dogs,” for in nothing else do they resemble 
the canine species. Like all marmots — and there are 
many different kinds— they are innocent little creat- 
ures, and live upon grass, seeds, and roots. They 
must eat very little ; and indeed it is a puzzle to 
naturalists how they sustain themselves. Their great 
“ towns” near the Rocky Mountains are generally in 
barren tracts, where there is but a scanty herbage ; 
and yef the inhabitants are never found more than 
half a mile from their dwellings. How, then, do 
thousands of them subsist on what little grass can 
grow in a pasture so circumscribed? This has not 
been explained ; nor is it known why they choose these 
barren tracts for their dwelling-places, in preference to 
the more fertile prairies. All these things await the 
study and observation of the historian of nature. . 

Basil was surprised to observe that the marmots were 
not alone the occupants of their town. There were 
other creatures moving about of an entirely different 
kind, and they also seemed to be perfectly at home. 
There were white owls, about the size of pigeons, of a 
species he had never seen before. These were the bur- 
rowing owls {Strix ainiailarid) differing altogether 
from their blind cousins of the night who dwell in 
thick woods and old ruins. He saw these little owls 


253 


Zbc JBop Ibunters 


gliding about on silent wing, or standing erect upon the 
tops of the houses, at a distance looking exactly like 
the marmots themselves. 

Besides the marmots and owls there were other live 
creatures in sight. There were small lizards scuttling 
about ; and crawling among the mounds was seen a 
hideous form — also of the lizard kind — the “ horned 
frog ” (Agama cornutd). These creatures were new to 
Basil ; and their ugly earth-coloured bodies, their half- 
toad, half-lizard shape, with the thorn-like protuber- 
ances, upon their back, shoulders, and head, inspired 
him with disgust as he gazed upon them. He could 
see, too, the small land-tortoise {Cistuda) squatting 
upon the ground, and peeping cautiously out of its 
box-like shell. But there was another creature in this 
community more fearful than all the rest. This was 
the ground rattlesnake^ which could be seen, coiled up, 
and basking in the sun, or gliding among the mounds, 
as if searching for his prey. Basil noticed that it was 
a different species from any of the rattlesnakes he had 
seen — differing from them in its shape and markings, 
but equally vicious in its appearance and habits. It 
was the Crotalus tergeminus — found only in barren 
grounds, such as those inhabited by the prairie marmot. 

Basil could not help falling into a train of reflection 
about this varied community of creatures. Were they 
friends to each other ? or did they form a chain of de- 
struction, preying upon one another? Friends they 
254 


H 'Boq Uowrt 


could not all be. The marmots lived upon grass ; and 
the lizards upon insects and prairie crickets, of which 
there were numbers around. Upon these, too, no 
doubt, the tortoises supported themselves ; but upon 
what fed the owls and snakes ? 

These questions puzzled Basil. He could not satisfy 
himself about them ; and he thought of Lucien, who 
understood the habits of these various animals better 
than himself. He began to think both of Tucien and 
Fran9ois — for two hours had now passed, and they did 
not make their appearance ! He was fast becoming 
uneasy, when a small group of objects was seen ap- 
proaching from the eastward, which, to his joy, proved 
to be the party. 

In half an hour afterwards they rode up, greeting 
their brother with joyful shouts. They had been trav- 
elling briskly ever since the morning, and upon Basil’s 
tracks too, showing what a stretch of ground he must 
have passed over in his wild gallop. They saw at 
once that the white horse had got off ; and Basil, in a 
few words, gave them an account of the chase and how 
it had come to an end. 

As it was now afternoon, and the butte still appeared 
distant, they made but a short halt— just long enough 
to swallow a morsel of meat and take a drink from 
their water-gourds, which, owing to the intense heat, 
were now better than half empty. Their animals 
already suffered from thirst ; so, without delay, the 
255 


trbe :Bo^ Ibunters 


young hunters got into their saddles, with the inten- 
tion of continuing their journey. 

‘ ‘ Across the dog town ? ’ ’ inquired Francois, who 
had mounted first. “Shall we ride through it or go 
round ? “ Here was a difficulty, indeed. The dog town 
lay directly between them and the butte. To keep 
straight forward they would have to ride through it. 
That would impede them to a considerable extent, as 
they could only ride slowly and in zig-zag lines without 
danger. To go round it, on the other hand, might 
lead them miles out of the way — perhaps many miles — 
for these marmot villages are frequently of large extent. 

“ Tet us go south a bit,” advised Lucien. “Per- 
haps we may come to the end of it that way.” 

They all turned their horses for the south, and 
commenced riding in that direction. 

They rode for at least two miles, keeping along the 
border of the settlement ; but they could still see it 
ahead, apparently stretching for miles farther. 

“We have come the wrong way,” said Lucien ; 

‘ ‘ we might have done better had we turned north. 
We must cross it now ; what say you, brothers? ” 

All agreed to this ; for it was not very pleasant to 
be going about, when the goal of one’s journey is 
within sight. So the heads of the horses were brought 
round once more facing the butte ; and the party rode 
in among the mounds, and proceeded slowly and with 
great caution. As they approached, the little “ dogs” 
256 


H Bog Howtt 


ran to their hillocks, barked at the intruders, shook 
their short tails, and then whisked themselves off into 
their holes. Whenever the party had got past a hun- 
dred yards or so, the marmots would come forth again, 
and utter their tiny cough-like notes as before ; so 
that when our travellers were fairly into the “ town,” 
they found themselves at all times, in the centre of a 
barking circle ! 

The owls rose up before them, alighting at short 
distances ; then, once more startled, they would fly 
farther off, sometimes sailing away until out of sight, 
and sometimes, like the marmots, hiding themselves 
within the burrows. The rattlesnakes, too, betook 
themselves to the burrows, and so did the lizards and 
agamas. What appeared most strange, was, that all 
of these creatures — marmots, owls, snakes, lizards, and 
agamas — were observed, when suddenly escaping, 
sometimes to enter the same mound ! This our travel- 
lers witnessed more than once. 

Very naturally the conversation turned upon these 
things ; and Tucien added some facts to what Basil 
had already observed. 

“The holes,” said he, “ had we time to dig them 
up, would be found to descend perpendicularly for two 
or three feet. They then run obliquely for several feet 
farther, and end in a little chamber which is the real 
house of the marmot. I say the real house, for these 
cone-like mounds are only the entrances. They have 


*7 


257 


trbe Ibunters 


been formed out of the earth brought up from below 
at the making of the burrows. As you see, this earth 
has not been allowed to lie in a neglected heap, such 
as rats and rabbits leave at the mouths of their burrows. 
On the contrary, it has been built up with great care, 
and beaten together by tlie marmots’ feet until quite 
firm and smooth ; and the grass has been allowed to 
grow over it to save it from being washed down by 
rain. It is evident the animal does all this with design 
— just as beavers, in building their houses. Now, upon 
these mounds the marmots love to bask, and amuse 
themselves in the sun ; and it is likely that they can 
watch their enemies better from this elevated position, 
and thus gain time to make good their retreat.” 

“But some of the mounds look quite dilapidated,” 
observed Francois. ‘ ‘ Fook yonder, there are several 
of them caved in, and guttered by the rain ! What is 
the reason, I wonder ? ” 

‘ ‘ These are the ones in which the owls live, ’ ’ re- 
plied Lucien. “ See ! yonder goes an owl into one this 
very moment ! It is supposed that the owls have taken 
these from the marmots, and use them exclusively for 
their own dwellings ; and, as you perceive, they do not 
keep them in repair. All they care for is the hole to 
take shelter in, leaving the outside works to go to ruin 
as they may. Certain it is that, although we have 
seen them and the dogs rush into the same hole to- 
gether, it is because we came suddenly upon them. 

258 


H Dog Uown 


They do not live thus. The marmots have their own 
dwellings, and the owls theirs, which last are the ruined 
ones you have noticed.” 

‘ ‘ But do not the owls eat the marmots ? ’ ’ inquired 
Basil. ” The great owls of the woods prey upon ani- 
mals as large. I have seen them kill rabbits in the 
dusk of the evening.” 

” These do not,” answered the naturalist ; “at least 
it is supposed they do not. Many that have been shot 
and opened proved to have nothing in their stomachs 
but insects and beetles — such as these we .see upon the 
prairie. I think it is probable the owls make an oc- 
casional meal of the horned frogs and lizards ; though 
I have no proof of this further than that birds of this 
kind usually prey upon such reptiles.” 

“But how live the rattlesnakes?” inquired Fran- 
cois ; ‘ ‘ what do they feed upon ? ’ ’ 

“Ah!” replied Tucien, “that is the puzzle of 
naturalists. Some assert that they are the tyrants of 
the community, and devour the old marmots. This 
can hardly be, as these snakes are not large enough to 
swallow them, in my opinion. Certain it is, however, 
that they prey occasionally upon the young, as many 
of them have been killed with young marmots in their 
belly.” 

“ Why, then,” rejoined Francois, “ the snakes seem 
to have it all their own way. If they eat the young 
marmots, what is to hinder them from killing as many 

25Q 


Ubc Ibunters 


as they please ? They can enter the burrows with as 
much ease as the marmots themselves ! ’ ’ 

“That is true,” replied Tucien, “but not half so 
nimbly ; and perhaps the latter can even escape them 
within. The rattlesnake is a very slow crawler ; and, 
besides, only strikes his prey when coiled up. Per- 
haps, in these subterranean galleries, he is still less 
able to capture it ; and the old marmots may, after all, 
have some mode of defending both themselves and their 
young from his venomous attacks. As yet very little 
is known of these creatures. The remote regions in 
which they are found place them beyond the observa- 
tion of naturalists ; and such of these, as have visited 
their towns, have been only allowed time to make a 
hurried examination of them. They are very shy ; 
rarely letting you get within range of a gun. They 
are, therefore, seldom shot at. Moreover, it takes great 
trouble to capture them by digging — on account of the 
depth of their burrows — and as their skins are not very 
valuable, and their flesh but a bite at best, they are 
not often molested by the hunter.” 

“ But are they eatable ? ” inquired Francois. 

“Yes,” answered Tucien ; “the Indians are very 
fond of their flesh, and eat it whenever they can con- 
veniently get it ; but, indeed, they will do the same 
for almost every living creature.” 

“What do marmots feed upon in winter, when there 
is no grass for them ? ” inquired Francois, 

260 


H Boo XTown 


“They then lie torpid. They have nests in their 
subterranean chambers, and curious nests these are. 
They are constructed of grass and roots, are as round 
as a globe, and so firmly woven together, that one of 
them might be kicked over the prairie like a foot-ball. 
The nest is within, with a small hole leading into it, 
just large enough to admit your finger — for when the 
marmot goes inside, he closes all up, except this little 
hole, through which he gets all the air he requires. 
In these snug beds they lie asleep during the cold 
season, and at that time are rarely seen outside theiir 
burrows.” 


CHAPTER XXV. 


A NIGHT IN THK DKSKRT. 

ONVERSING in this way, the young hunters 



rode on, keeping as far from the edges of the 
mounds as possible, lest the hoofs of their horses 
might sink in the excavated ground. They had rid- 
den full five miles, and still the marmot village stretched 
before them ! still the dogs on all sides uttered their 
“Choochoo” — still the owls flapped silently up, and 
the rattlesnakes crawled across their track. 

It was near sun-down when they emerged from 
among the hillocks, and commenced stepping out on 
the hard, barren plain. Their conversation now as- 
sumed a gloomier turn, for their thoughts were gloomy. 
They had drunk all their water. The heat and dust 
had made them extremely thirsty ; and the water, 
warmed as it was in their gourd canteens, scarcely 
gave them any relief. They began to experience the 
cravings of thirst. The butte still appeared at a 
great distance — at least ten miles off. What, if on 
reaching it, they should find no water ? This thought, 
combined with the torture they were already enduring, 
was enough to fill them with apprehension and fear. 


H IRtgbt in tbe H>esert 


Basil now felt how inconsiderately they had acted, 
in not listening to the more prudent suggestions of 
Lucien ; but it was too late for regrets — as is often the 
case with those who act rashly. 

They saw that they must reach the butte as speedily 
as possible, for the night was coming on. If it should 
prove a dark night, they would be unable to guide 
themselves by the eminence, and losing their course 
might wander all night. Oppressed with this fear, 
they pushed forward as fast as possible ; but their 
animals, wearied with the long journey and suffering 
from thirst, could only travel at a lagging pace. 

They had ridden about three miles from the dog- 
town, when, to their consternation, a new object 
presented itself. The prairie yawned before them, 
exhibiting one of those vast fissures often met with 
on the high table-lands of America. It was a barranca, 
of nearly a thousand feet in depth, sheer down into the 
earth, although its two edges at the top were scarcely 
that distance apart from each other ! It lay directly 
across the track of the travellers ; and they could trace 
its course for miles to the right and left, here running 
for long reaches in a straight line, and there curving or 
zig-zagging through the prairie. When they arrived 
upon its brink, they saw at a glance that they could 
not cross it. It was precipitous on both sides, with 
dark jutting rocks, which in some places overhung its 
bed. There was no water in it to gladden their eyes ; 

263 


XTbe :)Bo^ Ibunters 


but, even had there been such, they could not have 
reached it. Its bottom was dry, and covered with 
loose boulders of rock that had fallen from above. 

This was an interruption which our travellers little 
expected ; and they turned to each other with looks of 
dismay. For some minutes they deliberated, uncer- 
tain how to act. Would they ride along its edge, and 
endeavour to find a crossing place ? Or would it be 
better to retrace their steps, and attempt to reach the 
stream which they had left in the morning? The 
latter was a fearful alternative, as they knew they 
could not pass the marmot hillocks in the darkness 
without losing time and encountering danger. It is 
discouraging at all times to go back, particularly as 
they had ridden so far — they believed that water would 
be found near the butte. They resolved, at length, to 
search for a crossing. 

With this intention they made a fresh start, and 

kept along the edge of the barra7ica. They chose the 

path that appeared to lead upward— as by so doing 

they believed they w^ould the sooner reach a point 

where the chasm was shallower. They rode on for 

miles but still the fissure, with its steep cliffs, yawned 

✓ 

below them, and no crossing could be found. The 
sun went down, and the night came on as dark as 
pitch. The}^ halted. They dared ride no farther. 
They dared not even go back — lest they might chance 
upon some outlying angle of the crooked chasm, and 
264 


H IKliGbt in tbe Besert 


ride headlong into it ! They dismounted from their 
horses, and sunk down upon the prairie with feelings 
almost of despair. 

It would be impossible to picture their sufferings 
throughout that long night. They did not sleep even 
for a moment. The agonising pangs of thirst as well 
as the uncertainty of what was before them on the 
morrow kept them awake. They did not even picket 
their horses — for there was no grass near the spot 
where they were — but sat up all night holding their 
bridles. Their poor horses, like themselves, suffered 
both from thirst and hunger ; and the mule Jeanette 
occasionally uttered a wild hinnying that was painful 
to hear. 

As soon as day broke they remounted, and continued 
on along the edge of the barranca. The}?- saw that it 
still turned in various directions ; and, to add to their 
terror, they now discovered that they could not even 
retrace the path upon which they had come, without 
going all the way back on their own tracks. The sun 
was obscured by clouds, and they knew not in what 
direction lay the stream they had left — even had they 
possessed strength enough to have reached it. 

They were advancing and discussing whether they 
should make the attempt, when they came upon a deep 
buffalo road that crossed their path. It was beaten 
with tracks apparently fresh. They hailed the sight 
with joyful exclamations — as they believed that it 
265 


TLbc Ibunters 


would lead them to a crossing. They hesitated not, 
but riding boldly into it, followed it downward. As 
they had anticipated, it woujid down to the bottom of 
the barranca, and passed up to the prairie on the op- 
posite side, where they soon arrived in safety. 

This, however, was no termination to their suffer- 
ings, which had now grown more acute than ever. 
The atmosphere felt like an oven ; and the light dust, 
kicked up by their horses’ hoofs, enveloped them in a 
choking cloud, so that at times they could not see the 
butte for which they were making. It was of no use 
halting again. To halt was certain death — and they 
struggled on with fast- waning strength, scarcely able 
to retain their seats or speak to one another. Thirst 
had almost deprived them of the power of speech ! 

It was near sunset, when the travellers, faint, chok- 
ing, panting for breath, bent down in their saddles, 
their horses dragging along under them like loaded 
bees, approached the foot of the eminence. Their eyes 
were thrown forward in eager glances — glances in 
which hope and despair were strangely blended. 

The grey, rocky bluff that fronted them looked 
parched and forbidding. It seemed to frown inhos- 
pitably upon them as they drew near. 

“ O brothers, should there be no water ! ” 

This exclamation was hardly uttered, when the mule 
Jeanette, hitherto lagging behind, sprang forward in 
a gallop, hinnying loudly as she ran. Jeanette, as we 
266 


H IKigbt fn tbe 2)esert 


have said, was an old prairie traveller, and could scent 
water as far as a wolf could have done her own carcass. 
The other animals, seeing her act in this manner, 
rushed after ; and the next moment the little caval- 
cade passed round a point of rocks, where a green 
sward gladdened the eyes of all. They saw grass and 
willows, among whose leaves gurgled the crystal waters 
of a prairie spring ; and in a few seconds’ time, both 
horses and riders were quenching their thirst in its cool 
current. 


267 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


th:^ prong-horns, 



HE “butte” was one of those singular forma- 


tions to be met with in the Great American 


Desert. It was not a mountain nor yet a hill. Its 
shape was different from either. It was more like a 
vast mass of rocky earth, raised above the prairie, per- 
pendicular on all sides, and having a flat level surface 
upon its top. It was, in fact, one of those hills which 
in the language of Spanish America, are termed me- 
sas, or tables — so called on account of their flat, table- 
like tops. They are generally argillaceous, and are 
common upon the Upper Missouri river, and through- 
out the vast desert regions that lie west of the Del 
Norte. Sometimes several of them stand near each 
other upon the plains, looking as though their tops had 
once been the level of the ancient surface, and the 
ground between had been worn away by disintegra- 
tion — from rain and other causes — leaving them thus 
standing. To the eye of one accustomed to looking 
only upon rounded hills, or mountains with sharp 
peaks, these elevated mesas appear very singular, and 
form an interesting study for the geologist. 


XTbe prong=1borns 


The top of the one beside which our adventurers 
halted, had a superficial area of some twenty or thirty 
acres ; and its perpendicular sides rose nearly two hun- 
dred feet above the surrounding prairie. A thin growth 
of pine-trees covered it ; while stunted pinons and 
cedars hung out from its cliffs. There were agaves, 
and yucca palms, and cacti growing along its edges, 
giving it a very picturesque appearance. 

Our travellers, after halting, and having satisfied 
their thirst, of course thought of nothing but remain- 
ing there to recruit both themselves and their animals. 
They saw around them the three requisites of a camp — 
water, wood, and grass. They commenced by cutting 
down some pinon-trees that grew by the foot of the 
cliff. With these a bright fire was soon made. They 
had still enough bear’s-meat left to last them for sev- 
eral days. What more wanted they ? But they discov- 
ered that even in this arid region Nature had planted 
trees and vegetables to sustain life. The pinons 
afforded their farinaceous cones, the agave 3delded its 
esculent roots, and the prairie turnip grew upon the 
borders of the runlet. They saw a small plant with 
white lily-like flowers. It was the “sego ” of the In- 
dians {Calochortus luteus), and they knew that at its 
roots grew tubers, as large as filberts, and delicious 
eating when cooked. Lucien recognised all these edi- 
ble productions ; and promised his brothers a luxuri- 
ous dinner on the morrow. For that night, all three 
269 


Ube Ibunters 


were too much fatigued and sleepy to be nice about 
their appetites. The juicy bear’s-meat, to travellers 
thirsty and hungry as they, needed no seasoning to 
make it palatable. So they washed themselves clear 
of the dust, ate their frugal meal, and stretched them- 
selves out for a long night’s rest. 

And a capital night’s rest they enjoyed — without 
having been disturbed by anything. One would have 
supposed that, after so much hardship, they would 
have got up somewhat wearied. Strange to say, it 
was not so, for they arose quite refreshed. This Tucien 
attributed to the bracing influence of the light dry at- 
mosphere ; and Lucien was right, for, although an arid 
soil surrounded them, its climate is one of the health- 
iest in the world. Many a consumptive person, who 
has crossed the prairies with flushed cheek, uttering 
his hectic cough, has returned to his friends to bear 
joyful testimony to what I now state. 

All three felt as brisk as bees, and immediately set 
about preparing breakfast. They gathered a capful of 
the pinon cones — the seeds of which Tucien knew how 
to prepare by parching and pounding. These, with 
the bear’s-meat, gave them a good hunter’s breakfast. 
They then thought of their dinner, and dug up a quan- 
tity of segos and prairie turnips. They found also 
a mallow — the Malva involucrata — whose long tapering 
root resembles the parsnip both in taste and appear- 
ance. All these were baked with the bear’s-meat — 


270 


tube lC>ronG=1l3orus 


so that the dinner, in some respects, resembled ham, 
turnips, parsnips, and yams — for the root of the sego 
thus dressed, is not unlike the yam, or sweet potato 
{Convolvulus batatas). 

Of course our adventurers did not eat their dinner 
immediately after breakfast. A long interval passed 
between the two meals, which they employed in wash- 
ing, scouring, and setting all their tackle to rights — 
for this had got sadly out of order in the hurry of the 
previous days. While thus engaged, they occasionally 
cast their eyes over the prairie, but nothing of the 
buiffaloes could be seen. Indeed, they did not look for 
them very earnestly, as they had made up their minds 
to stay a day or two where they were — until their ani- 
mals should be well rested, and ready for rough work 
again. The latter enjoyed themselves quite as much 
as their masters. There was plenty of the ‘ ‘ grama ’ ’ 
grass growing along the banks of the rivulet, and that 
with the water was all they cared for to make them 
contented and happy. Jeanette appeared to be glad 
that .she was no longer among the dark woods, where 
she had so nearly been torn to pieces by panthers and 
javalies. 

Before evening came the boys had finished all the 
little jobs which had occupied them. Their saddles, bri- 
dles, and lassos, were put in thorough repair, and 
placed upon the dry rocks. Their guns were wiped out, 
and thoroughly cleaned — lock, stock, and barrel. The 
271 


Ubc Ibunter^ 


horses, too, had been washed by the spring ; and Jea- 
nette’s shanks had received a fresh “ rub ” with bear’s- 
grease, so that if ever that celebrated article brought 
out hair upon anything, it was likely to do so for her. 

I say, all their little matters having been thus at- 
tended to, the young hunters were sitting upon three 
large stones near the spring, talking over their past 
adventures and their future prospects. Of course the 
buffalo was the principal theme, as that was the object 
of their expedition. They did not fail to think of 
their good old father ; and they congratulated them- 
selves upon the pleasure he would have in listening to 
the story of their adventures when they should get 
back to tell it. Hugot, too, came in for a share of 
their thoughts ; and Francois laughed over the remem- 
brance of the tricks he had from time to time played 
upon the little corporal. 

While thus enjoying themselves, the eyes of all 
were attracted to some distant objects upon the 
prairie. 

‘ ‘ Ho ! ’ ’ exclaimed Francois, ‘ ‘ what a string of 
wolves ! ” 

Wolves were no unusual sight, and even at that 
moment several were sitting upon the prairie, not more 
than two hundred yards from the camp. They were 
those that had followed the party on their march, having 
kept along with it for days. 

“The animals we see, yonder, are not wolves,” 
272 


Ubc B>rono**1born5 


joyfully added Basil. “They are better than that, I 
fancy — they are deer ! “ 

“No, brother,” rejoined Tucien, “they are ante- 
lopes.” 

This announcement caused both Basil and Francois 
to spring to their guns. Basil was particularly anxious 
to bring down an antelope, for he had never killed one. 
In fact, he had never seen one, as this animal is not 
met with near the Mississippi. Strange to say, its 
favourite range is the arid deserts that lie near the foot 
of the Rocky Mountains, where there is but little grass, 
and less water. In some of these it is the only rumi- 
nating animal, of any considerable size, to be met 
with. It is often found so far from water, that some 
naturalists have asserted it can live without this neces- 
sary element. They forget that what to them appears 
/ar from water ^ is to the antelope but a run of a few 
minutes, or rather I should say, a flight — for its bound- 
ing speed resembles more the flight of a bird than the 
gallop of a four-footed creature. 

Antelopes differ but little from deer. The latter w^ant 
the gall-bladder, which all antelopes have. Another 
distinction is found in the horns. The deer’s horns 
are composed of a solid bony substance, which differs 
from true horn. The horns of the antelope are more 
like those of a goat. These are the principal distinc- 
tions. In most other respects deer and antelopes are 
alike. Naturalists say there is but one species of ante- 


Ubc 1F3imter5 


lope in North America — the prong-horned (^Antilope 
Americana). When the fauna of Mexico has been 
carefully examined, I think another will be found. 

It is only upon the great prairies of the far West that 
the prong-horned antelope is met with ; and there it is 
a most shy and timid creature, allowing the hunter only 
to approach it by cunning and stratagem. A herd 
is sometimes hunted by the Indians into a “pound,” 
or ‘ ‘ surrounded ’ ’ ; but even then their fleetness often 
enables them to escape ; and so laborious an undertak- 
ing is it to capture them thus, that the plan is but sel- 
dom adopted, where any other game can be obtained. 
The easiest mode of taking the antelope is when it is 
found attempting to cross a river — as its slender limbs 
and small delicate hoofs render it but a poor swim- 
mer. The Indians sometimes destroy whole herds 
while thus endeavouring to swim across the great 
streams of the prairies. 

Although so shy, the antelope is as inquisitive as 
Mother Eve was ; and will often approach its most 
dangerous enemy to satisfy its instinct of curiosity. 
Our party were destined to witness a singular illus- 
tration of this peculiarity. 

Basil and Fran9ois had seized their guns, but did not 
attempt to move from the spot. That would be of no 
use, they j udged ; as there was not even a bunch of 
grass to shelter them in the direction whence the ante- 
lopes were approaching. They sat still, therefore, in 
274 


XTbe lProng==1borns 


hopes that the animals were on their way to the spring, 
and would come nearer of their own accord. In this con- 
jecture the boys were right. The herd, about twenty 
in all, came on over the prairie, heading directly for 
the butte. They walked in single file, following their 
leader like Indians on a war-path ! They were soon 
so near that the hunters could distinguish every part 
of their bodies — their yellow backs — their white sides 
and bellies — the short erect manes upon their neck.s — 
their delicate limbs — their long pointed muzzles. They 
could even perceive the little black spots behind their 
cheeks, which emit that disagreeable odour — as with 
the common goat — and on account of which the hunt- 
ing trappers, in their unromantic phraseology, have 
given the name of ‘ ‘ goats ’ ’ to these most graceful 
animals. 

All these peculiarities our young hunters observed 
as the herd approached. They had placed themselves 
behind some willow-bushes, so as not to be seen by 
the latter. They observed, too, that there was but one 
of them with horns, and that was the foremost, or 
leader. All the rest were does or young ones. The 
antelopes, as they came on, did not appear to regard 
the horses, that were browsing out upon the plain, 
though not directly in their way. They took the lat- 
ter, no doubt, for mustangs — who are not their ene- 
mies in any sense — and, therefore, did not fear them. 

They arrived at length close to the spring rivulet, 
275 


ITbe JSop Ibunters 


where it ran out upon the prairie. They did not ap- 
proach it to drink. They were evidently advancing 
towards the spring itself, perhaps with the intention 
of getting a cooler and more refreshing draught from 
the fountain-head. The young hunters lay concealed 
among the willows — each with his gun ready in his 
hand — determined to fire as soon as the unsuspecting 
creatures should come within range. 

They had got nearly so — within two hundred yards, 
or less — when all at once the leader was seen to swerve 
suddenly to the right, and head away from the water ! 
What could this movement mean ? On looking in the 
new direction, several hairy objects were perceived upon 
the ground. They were odd-looking objects, of a red- 
dish-brown colour, and might have passed for a num- 
ber of foxes lying asleep. But they were not foxes. 
They were Yiolves— prairie wolves — a sort of animals 
more cunning even than foxes themselves. They 
were not asleep neither, though they pretended to be. 
They were wide awake, as they lay squatted closely 
upon the grass, with their heads so completely hidden 
behind their bushy tails, that it would have been im- 
possible to have told what they were, had not the boys 
known that they were the same wolves they had noticed 
but the moment before. There were about half-a-dozen 
of them in all, lying. in a line ; but so close were they, 
that their bodies touched one another, and at first sight 
appeared as one object, or a string of objects connected 
276 


XTbe Hbrong^lfDorn^ 


together. They lay perfectly still and motionless. It 
was this group that had attracted the leader of the 
antelope herd, and was drawing him out of his course. 

Curious to witness the denouemejit, our hunters con- 
tinued to lie quiet in their ambush among the willows. 

The antelopes had all turned in the track of their 
leader, and were following him in the new direction, 
like soldiers marching in single file. They went 
slowly, with out-stretched necks and eyes protruded, 
gazing steadfastly on the strange objects before them. 
When within a hundred yards or so of the wolves, the 
leader stopped, and sniffed the air. The others imi- 
tated him in every movement. The wind was blowing 
towards the wolves, therefore the antelopes who pos- 
sess the keenest scent, could benefit nothing from this. 
They moved forward again several paces, and again 
halted, and uttered their snorts as before, and then 
once more moved on. These manoeuvres lasted for 
some minutes ; and it was evident that the spirits of 
fear and curiosity were struggling within the breasts 
of these creatures. At - times the former seemed to 
have the mastery, for they would tremble, and start as 
if about to break off in flight. Curiosity would again 
prevail, and a fresh movement forward was the con- 
sequence. 

In this way they advanced, until the headmost had 
got within a few paces of the wolves, who lay all the 
while as still as mice or as cats waiting for mice. Not 


277 


Ubc 1[3unter0 


any part of them was seen to move, except the long 
hair of their tails that waved slightly in the breeze ; 
but this only excited the curiosity of the antelopes to 
a greater degree. 

The leader of the herd seemed all at once to grow 
bolder. He was a stout old buck — what had /te to 
fear ? Why should he dread such creatures as these, 
without heads, or teeth, or claws, and evidently inca- 
pable of moving themselves? No doubt they were 
inanimate objects. He would soon decide that ques- 
tion, by simply stepping up and laying his nose upon 
one of them. 

He was instigated, moreover, by a species of pride 
or vanity. He wanted to show off his courage before 
his followers, who were mostly does ; many of them 
his wives too — for the old antelopes are shocking 
polygamists. It would never do to appear timid in 
the eyes of the fair does p and he was determined to 
cut a swagger. Under this impulse, he walked boldly 
up, until his sharp snout touched the hair of one of 
the wolves. 

The latter, who had been all the time peeping 
from under his tail, waiting for just such an oppor- 
tunity, now sprang to his feet, and launched himself 
upon the throat of the antelope. His comrades, un- 
coiling themselves at the same instant, followed his 
example ; and the next moment the prong-horn was 
dragged to the ground, and worried by the whole pack ! 

278 


TLbc pron^slborns 


The frightened herd wheeled in their track and 
scattered right and left. Some ran in the direction 
of the hunters ; but so swiftly did they bound past, 
that the shots of the latter, aimed in haste, whistled 
idly over the prairie. Not one of them appeared to 
have been touched ; and, in a few seconds, not one 
of them was to be seen. They had all escaped, except 
their leader, who was by this time dying under the 
teeth of the wolves. 

“ Well, we shall have him at all events,” said 
Basil. “ lyoad your guns, brothers! give the wolves 
time to kill him outright ; we can easily run them 
off.” 

“ Very kind of them,” added Francois, “ to procure 
us fresh venison for supper. Indeed, we might not 
have had it but for their cunning. We have done 
them some service during our journey, it is almost 
time they should make us a return.” 

“We had better make haste, then,” said Tucien, 
loading at the same time with his brothers; “the 
wolves appear to be very busy ; they may tear our 
venison to pieces. See I what a scuffle I ” 

As Tucien said this, the eyes of all were turned 
upon the wolves. The latter were leaping about over 
the body of the antelope, now in a thick clump, now 
more scattered, but all the while apparently worrying 
the animal to death. Their jaws were already blood- 
stained, and their bushy tails swept about and above 

279 


ZIbe Ibunters 


them in ceaseless motion. The hunters made all haste 
in reloading, lest, as Lucien had suggested, the wolves 
might spoil the venison. They were not more than a 
minute engaged in ramming down the bullets, and 
fixing the caps on the nipples of their guns. When 
this was done, all three ran forward together — Marengo 
in the advance, with outstretched neck and open 
mouth, eager to do battle with the whole pack. 

It was but three hundred yards to the spot where 
the wolves were ; and when our hunters had got 
within range, all three stopped, levelled their pieces, 
and fired. The volley took effect. Two were seen 
kicking and sprawling over the grass, while the others, 
dropping their prey, scampered off over the prairie. 
The boys ran up. Marengo leaped upon one of the 
wounded wolves, while the other was despatched by 
the butts of their guns. But where was the antelope ? 
There was no such animal to be seen ; but, in its stead, 
half-a-dozen fragments of mangled skin, a horned head 
and shanks, with a clump of half-picked ribs and joints ! 
And this was all that was left of the poor prong-horn 
— all that was left of that beautiful form that, only a 
few moments before, was bounding over the prairies in 
the full pride of health, strength, and swiftness ! 

The boys contemplated his remains with feelings 
of disappointment and chagrin ; for, although there 
was still plenty of bear-meat, they had anticipated 
supping upon fresh venison. But neither “haunch” 
280 


XTbe pronG^HDorns 


nor “saddle” was left — nothing but torn and useless 
fragments — so, after sundry sharp ejaculations against 
the wolves, they left Marengo to make his best of the 
debris, and, walking back slowly to the camp, seated 
themselves once more upon the stones. 


281 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


DKCOYING AN ANTEIvOPK. 

HEY had not rested more than five minutes, 



when their attention was again attracted to the 


prairie. Another herd of antelopes ! Strange to say, 
it was ; and, like the former, these were making di- 
rectly for the spring. The hunters knew they were 
not the same ; for this herd was much larger, and there 
were several males in it, easily distinguishable by their 
forked horns. 

The guns were again loaded, and Marengo was 
called up — lest he might frighten them off. 

These, like the others, marched in order, in single 
file — led by a large buck. There appeared to be about 
thirty or more in this herd. They had, no doubt, been 
pasturing all day on some far plain, and were now on 
their way to the water, determined to have a good 
drink before going to rest for the night. 

When they had arrived within four or five hundred 
yards of the spring, they turned slightly to the left. 
This brought them at once to the rivulet — where they 
entered, and having drunk, went out again, and com- 


IDeco^in^ an Hntelope 


menced browsing along the bank. It was evident they 
did not intend coming any nearer to the butte, or the 
grove of willows, where our hunters had concealed 
themselves. This was a disappointment. All three 
had once more set their minds upon an antelope sup- 
per ; and now their chances of getting it seemed every 
moment growing less — as the animals, instead of com- 
ing nearer, were browsing away from them over the 
prairie. There was no cover by which they might be 
approached. What, then, could the hunters do, but 
leave them to go as they had come ? 

But there was an expedient which suggested itself 
to the mind of Basil. He had heard of it from old 
hunters ; and the curious conduct of the first herd, so 
lately shown in regard to the wolves, recalled it to his 
remembrance. He resolved, therefore, to try this’ ex- 
pedient, and secure an antelope if possible. 

Cautioning his brothers to remain quiet, he took up 
one of the red blankets that lay near. He had already 
cut a long forked sapling, and sharpened it at one end 
with his knife. He now spread out the blanket, hold- 
ing it up before him ; and, with his rifle in one hand, 
and the sapling in the other, he passed out of the 
willows into the open ground — keeping the blanket 
between him and the animals, so that his body was 
completel}^ hidden from them. In this way he ad- 
vanced a few paces, walking in a bent attitude, until 
he had attracted the attention of the antelopes. He 
283 


trbe Boy Ibunter^ 


then stuck the sapling firmly in the ground, hung the 
blanket upon its forks, and knelt down behind it. 

An object so odd-looking, both as regarded form and 
colour, at once excited the curiosity of the herd. They 
left off feeding, and commenced approaching it— halt- 
ing at short intervals, and then continuing to advance. 
They did not move in single file — as the former herd 
had done — but first one, and then another of the bucks 
took the lead, each wishing to make a display of his 
courage. In a few minutes one of the largest was 
within range ; when Basil, who was lying flat along 
the grass, took sight at the animal’s breast and fired. 

The buck leaped up at the shot ; but, to the great 
disappointment of the marksman, turned in his tracks, 
and fled along with the rest of the herd, all of which 
had bounded off on hearing the crack of the rifle. 

Basil beheld this with some surprise. He had taken 
deliberate aim ; and he knew that when he did so, it 
was seldom that his rifle failed him. He had missed 
this time, however, as he thought, when he saw the 
antelope run off apparently unhurt ; and, attributing 
his failure to the hurried manner in which he had 
loaded his piece, he took up the blanket, and turned 
with a mortified look towards his companions. 

“ Took yonder ! ” cried Francois, who still watched 
the retreating antelopes ; “ look at the wolves ! Away 
they go after.” 

“ Ha ! ” exclaimed Tucien, “ you have wounded the 
284 



DECOYING AN ANTELOPE 


i 

i 

( 

4 


\ 

i 


BecopinG an Hntelope 


buck, brother, else the wolves would never follow. 
See ! they are running upon his track like hounds ! ’ ’ 

lyucien was right. The animal was hit, or the 
wolves would not have embarked in a chase so hope- 
less as the pursuit of a prong-horn ; for, strange to 
say, these cunning creatures can tell when game has 
been wounded better than the hunters themselves, and 
very often pursue and run it down, when the latter 
believe it to have escaped ! It was evident, therefore, 
that Basil had hit the animal — though not in a deadly 
part — and the wolves were now following with the 
hope of hunting it down. 

A new idea came into Basil’s mind. He thought he 
might yet he in at the death ; and with this idea he ran 
up to his horse, drew the picket-pin, and leaping upon 
his bare back, directed him after the chase. He was 
soon in full gallop over the prairie, keeping the wolves 
in sight as he went. He could see the antelope, he 
had fired at, some distance ahead of the wolves, but 
far behind the rest of the herd, and evidently running 
heavily and with pain. 

It cost the young hunter a five-mile gallop ; and, 
at the end of that, while he was yet half a mile in the 
rear, he saw the wolves come up with the wounded 
antelope, and drag it down upon the prairie. He made 
all the haste he could— putting Black Hawk to the top 
of his speed. In a few minutes he was upon the 
ground, and scattered the wolves as he galloped among 
285 


Zl)c Ibunters 


them ; but once more he had arrived too late. The 
body of the antelope was torn to pieces, and more than 
half devoured ; while only half-picked bones and pieces 
of skin remained to reward him for his long ride ! 

With an ejaculation which came very near being 
a French oath, the disappointed hunter turned his 
horse, and rode slowly back — wishing the wolves far 
enough as he went. 

When he returned, Francois assisted him in his 
maledictions ; for Francois was tired of the bear-meat, 
and was vexed at being thus a second time cheated out 
of something fresh for supper. 

lyucien, however, assured them both that the flesh 
of the antelope, as he had heard, vras ‘ ‘ no great eat- 
ing,” after all ; and this, in some degree, pacified them 
— so that, with a stew of the jerked bear and parsnips, 
and some pinon bread, which Fucien had prepared 
according to the Indian fashion, all three made a sup- 
per that was not to be sneered at under any circum- 
stances. When it was eaten, they brought their horses 
closer to the camp — so as to have them near in case of 
necessity — and, having wrapped themselves in their 
blankets, they once more sought the refreshment of 
sleep. 


286 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


SCATTERING THE CIMM ARONS. 

T his night they were not permitted to sleep with- 
out interruption. Two or three times their 
horses bounded about at the end of their trail-ropes, 
frightened by some prowling animal. It might be 
wolves, thought they ; but the dog Marengo, who did 
not mind the wolves, showed symptoms of terror, growl- 
ing savagely at intervals, but all the while keeping in 
by the camp. The mule Jeanette, too, came close up 
to the fire — as near as her rope would allow her — and our 
adventurers could see that she trembled, as if in fear 
of some well-known enemy ! Several times they could 
distinguish, amidst the howling of the wolves, a 
strange sound differing altogether from the voices of 
the latter. It was a kind of continued snort, uttered 
in a low and querulous tone ; and when uttered, it 
always caused Jeanette to start, and Marengo to crouch 
closer to them. Could it be the voice of the cougar ? or, 
more fearful thought still, the snort of the grizzly bear ? 
The latter was not unlikely. They were now in a 
region where these fierce animals are to be met with ; 
287 


Ube ibunters 


and just in such a spot as one or more of them would 
choose for their abode. 

It was a fearful apprehension, and it would have 
banished sleep from the eyes of the young hunters had 
they been certain that grizzly bears were in their 
neighbourhood. They were not certain, however ; still 
they resolved not to sleep all at one time, but to keep 
watch in turns. The fire was replenished with fresh 
wood, so that the blaze would enable them to see for 
a good distance around ; and then two of them lay 
down to sleep again, while the third watched, sitting 
up with his piece in readiness for any sudden attack. 
Each took a two-hours’ turn as sentinel until the 
morning broke, which put an end to their fears, as no 
enemy appeared to be near them. 

They now bestirred themselves, let loose their horses 
upon the grass, performed their ablutions in the crystal 
water of the spring, and made ready their breakfast. 
They did not fail to observe, that their stock of the 
jerked meat could serve them but a day or two longer 
for the wolves at their last camp had carried off a con- 
siderable portion of it. They were not without fears 
as to their future subsistence, as there seemed to be no 
game in that part of .the country except antelopes ; and 
their experience already taught them how little chance 
they had of capturing these. Should they not fall in with 
the buffalo, therefore, they might starve with hunger. 

These thoughts occupied them while engaged in 
288 


Scattering tbe Cimmarons 


preparing and eating breakfast ; and they resolved to 
go on half rations of the bear-meat, and economise the 
little of it that was left. 

After breakfast they held a council as to their future 
route. Should they go north, south, east, or west, 
from the butte? They were of different minds. At 
length, however, they all agreed that before coming to 
any determination, it would be best to climb to the 
butte, and from its top get a view of the surrounding 
country, which might enable them to resolve upon the 
best route to be taken. Perhaps they might see the 
buffaloes from its summit — as it, no doubt, commanded 
an extensive view of the prairie on all sides. 

Shouldering their guns, and leaving their blankets 
and utensils by the spring, they started on foot to find 
a place where they might ascend the eminence. They 
went round by the western end, for their camp was 
near its northeast side. As they proceeded, they 
began to fear that there was no place where the hill 
could be climbed. On all sides it appeared to be a 
precipice rising perpendicularly from the plain ! Here 
and there loose rocks lay at its base, as if they had 
fallen from above ; and trees grew out of its face, 
clinging by their roots in the seams of the cliff. Scat- 
tered pines standing upon its topmost edge, stretched 
their branches out over the plain ; and the aloe plants, 
the yuccas, and cacti added to the wild picturesqueness 
of its appearance. 

*9 


289 


XTbe :Bo^ Ibuntera 


On reaching the westernmost point of the butte, a 
new object presented itself to the eyes of our adven- 
turers. It resembled a range of cliffs, or low mountains, 
at a great distance off to the west, and running from 
north to south as far as they could see. It was, in 
fact, a range of cliffs — similar to those of the butte. It 
was the eastern escarpment of the famous “ I^lano 
Bstacado,” or “Staked Plain.” The boys had often 
heard hunters speak of this table-land, and they recog- 
nised its features at a glance. The butte around which 
they were travelling was nothing more than an outly- 
ing mesa of this singular formation of the prairies. 

After gazing for a moment, on the far-off bluffs, our 
young hunters continued on their course, keeping 
around to the southern side of the eminence. Still the 
cliffs rose perpendicularly, and offered no slope by 
which they might be scaled. They appeared even 
higher on this side ; and in some places hung over, 
with dark jutting rocks, and large trees growing 
horizontally outward. 

At one place the boys had halted, and were gazing up- 
ward, when several strange-looking creatures suddenly 
appeared upon the edge of the precipice above them. 
They were animals, but such as they had never seen 
before. Bach of them was as large as a common deer, 
and nearly of the same colour — reddish upon the back 
and flanks, though the throat, hips, and under parts, 
were of a whitish hue. They were nearly deer-shaped, 
290 


Scattering tbe Cimmarons 


though of somewhat stouter proportions, and to these 
they bore a strong resemblance in many other respects. 
In the form of their heads and general expression of 
their faces they resembled sheep more than any other 
animals. But the most singular part of them was 
their horns ; and these enabled our hunters at a glance 
to tell what sort of animals they were. They were the 
“ cimniarons,” or wild sheep of the Rocky Mountains. 

In regard to their horns, they differed very much 
from one another ; and at first sight there appeared to 
be two distinct species of animals. Some, of them had 
short horns — not over six inches in length — rising 
from the crown of the head and bending slightly back- 
ward, without widening much between the tips. 
These were the females of the flock. The males, how- 
ever, presented an appearance altogether different, 
owing to the immense size of their horns. These grew 
out immediately over their eyes, first curving back- 
wards, and then forwards again, until their points 
nearly touched the jaws of the animals on both sides. 
The horns of some were more than a yard in length, 
and quite half as much in circumference at the base, 
where they were deeply indented with ring-like grooves 
and protuberances, such as are seen in those of the 
common ram. These huge appendages gave the crea- 
tures a singular and imposing appearance, as they 
stood out upon the brink of the precipice outlined 
against the blue sky. There were about a dozen of 
291 


Zbc JSoi? Ibunters 


them in all — both males and females, — ^but the males 
could be more plainly seen, as they were farther for- 
ward upon the cliff, looking down and snuffing the 
tainted air. 

As soon as our young hunters had recovered from 
their first surprise at this novel sight, all three levelled 
their pieces with the intention of firing. But the cim- 
marons seemed to have guessed their design ; for, as 
the guns were pointed upward, they wheeled, and were 
out of sight in a twinkling. 

The boys remained on the spot for more than a quar- 
ter of an hour, in hopes that the animals would again 
make their appearance on the precipice above. The 
latter, however, did not return. They had satisfied 
their curiosity ; or else, wiser than the antelopes, they 
were not going to let it lure them into danger. Our 
hunters, therefore, were at length constrained to leave 
the spot, and continue their search for a path that 
might lead upward. 

They were now more anxious than ever to reach the 
summit of the butte. There was a flock of wild sheep 
upon it, and from these they hoped to replenish their 
larder. As they proceeded, every crevice or ravine 
that seemed to lead up the cliff was carefully exam- 
ined ; but upon all its southern front no practicable 
path could be discovered. 

“ There must be some way up,” said Francois, “ else 
how could the sheep have got there? ” 

292 


Scattering tbe Ctntmarons 


“Maybe,” suggested Basil, “they were bred up 
there, and have never been down to the plain.” 

“No,” said louden, “that is not likely, brother. 
There can be no water, I think, upon the table above ; 
and these animals require drink as well as others. 
They must descend occasionally .to the spring for it.” 

“ Then there is a path,” said Francois. 

“ No doubt for them there is,” replied Tucien ; “ but 
for all that, we may not be able to follow it. These 
animals, although hoofed as sheep are, can scale a 
cliff like cats, or spring down one like squirrels. It 
is in that way they are enabled to escape from wolves, 
panthers, and other beasts who would prey upon 
them.” 

“I have heard,” said Basil, “that they can fling 
themselves down for a hundred feet or more upon their 
horns, without receiving the slightest injury. Is that 
true, lyuce? ” 

“ Both the Indians and trappers affirm it, afid intel- 
ligent travellers have believed them. Whether it be 
true or not is a question among naturalists that re- 
mains to be cleared up. It is certain that they can 
leap downward for a very great distance — that they 
can alight on the narrowest shelves of a precipice with- 
out a hoof slipping— that they can spring across fear- 
ful chasms, and run swiftly along ledges where a dog 
or a wolf would not dare to venture. Indeed, they 
seem to delight in such situations — as if it gave them 
293 


XTbe Ibunters 


a pleasure to court danger, just as a schoolboy likes to 
luxuriate in perilous feats of agility. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Are these the same that are called ‘ big-horns ’ by 
the hunters?” demanded Franfois. 

“The same,” answered Fucien ; “‘cimmaron’ is 
the name given by the Spaniards — the earliest explor- 
ers of these regions. Naturalists have named them 
‘ argali,’ from their resemblance to the argali {Ovis 
ammoTi), or wild sheep of Europe. They are not the 
same species, however. In my opinion, they are not 
wild sheep at all^ but true antelopes, as much so as the 
chamois of the Alps, or the prong-horns of the prairie. 
Indeed, to say that our common sheep sprung from 
the argali seems a very absurd theory. There is but 
little resemblance between the two animals, except 
about the head and horns of the rams ; and, I think, 
no circumstances could have caused such a difference 
as there exists between them in other respects. I 
should say, then, that the big-horns are not sheep, but 
antelopes — mountain antelopes^ you might call them, to 
distinguish them from their prong-horned cousins, who 
prefer to range over the plains, while they, on the con- 
trary, spend most of their time among the steep and 
craggy cliffs.” 

An exclamation from Basil, who was walking a few 
paces in advance, at this moment summoned the at- 
tention of his brothers, and put an end to this conver- 
sation. They had arrived at the eastern end of the 
294 


Scattering tbe Cimmarons 


butte, which on that side presented a different appear- 
ance from either of the others. There was a deep 
ravine that indented the cliff, and along its channel 
a sloping path appeared to lead up to the top. This 
channel was filled with large loose rocks, surrounded 
by an underwood of cacti and acacia thorns ; and it 
seemed as though the slope was sufficiently easy to be 
ascended by a person on foot. Near the bottom of the 
ravine were very large bowlders ; and a spring, more 
copious than the one where the hunters had encamped, 
ran out from among them, and flowed southeastward 
through a fringe of grass and willows. 

As the boys came up to the spring branch, some 
tracks in the soft mud drew their attention. They 
were of an oblong shape, and larger than the footprints 
of a man ; but the deep holes made by five great claws 
at the end of each told what animal had made them. 
They were the tracks of the grizzly bear. There 
could be no doubt of this, for there were the prints of 
the long plantigrade feet, the tubercules of the toes, 
and the holes where the curving claws had sunk sev- 
eral inches into the mud. No other animal could have 
made such marks — not even the black or brown bear, 
whose claws are short in comparison with those of the 
grizzly monster of the mountains. 

For some moments our hunters hesitated under feel- 
ings of alarm ; but, as the animal that had made the 
tracks was not in sight, their fears gradually subsided 
295 


XTbe :f6o^ ir^unters 


to some extent, and they began to consider what was 
best to be done. Should they go up the ravine, and 
endeavour to reach the summit ? This would only be 
carrying out their original intention, and they would 
have started upward without hesitation, had they not 
discovered the bear tracks. Seeing these, however, 
had put a new aspect on the matter. If there were 
grizzly bears in the neighbourhood — and this seemed 
very certain — the ravine was the most likely place to 
find them in. Its thick underwood, with the numerous 
crevices, that, like caverns, appeared among the rocks 
on each side, were just such places as grizzly bears de- 
light in. Their lair might be in this very ravine, and 
it would be a dangerous business to stumble upon it in 
passing up. But our young hunters were full of cour- 
age. They had a keen desire to ascend the butte — 
partly out of curiosity, and partly to get a shot at the 
big-horns — and this desire triumphed over prudence. 
They resolved to carry through what they had begun ; 
and at length commenced to ascend, Basil taking the 
lead. 

It was severe climbing withal ; and now and again 
they had to pull themselves up by laying hold of 
branches and roots. They noticed that there was a 
trail, which they followed upward. No doubt the big- 
horns, or some other animals, had made this trail as 
they passed up and down — though it was only distin- 
guishable by a slight discoloration upon the rocks, and 
296 


Scattering tbe dimmarons 


by the earth being packed firmer in some places, as if 
by hoofs or feet. A little better than half-way up, the 
boys observed a fissure, like the entrance of a cave, on 
one side of the ravine and close to the trail. Around 
this the earthy colour of the rocks, the absence of herb- 
age, and the paddled appearance of the soil, suggested 
the idea that some animal made its den there. They 
passed it in silence, climbing as quickly as the nature 
of the ground would allow them, and looking back- 
wards with fear. In a few minutes they had reached 
the escarpment of the butte ; and, raising themselves 
by their hands they peeped over, and at once obtained 
a view of its whole table-like summit. 

It was, as they had conjectured, perfectly level upon 
the top, with an area-surface of about twenty or thirty 
acres. Pine-trees grew thinly over it, with here and 
there a bush or two of acacia, the species known as 
mezquite. There was plenty of grass among the 
trees, and large tussocks of “bunch grass ’’ mingling 
with cactus and aloe plants, formed a species of under- 
growth. This, however, was only at two or three 
spots, as for the most part the surface was open, and 
could be .seen at a single view. The hunters had 
hardly elevated their heads above the cliff, when the 
herd of big-horns became visible. They were at the 
moment near the western extremity of the table ; and, 
to the astonishment of all, they appeared leaping over 
the ground as if they were mad ! They were not at- 
297 


Ubc Bov Ibunters 


tempting to escape ; for they had not as yet noticed the 
boys, who, on getting above, had crept cautiously be- 
hind some bushes. On the contrary, the animals were 
skipping about in different directions at the same time, 
and bounding high into the air. After a moment it 
was observed that only those with the large horns were 
^king part in this exercise, while the others were 
browsing quietly near them. It was soon evident 
what the males were about. They were engaged in a 
fierce conflict ; and their angry snorts, with the loud 
cracking of their horns, told that they were in terrible 
earnest. Now they backed from each other — as rams 
usually do — and anon they would dash forward until 
their heads met with a crash, as though the skulls of 
both had been splintered by the concussion. Some- 
times two fought by themselves, and at other times 
three or four of them would come together, as if it 
mattered little which was the antagonist. They all 
appeared to be equally the enemies of one another. 
Strange to say, the ewes did not seem to trouble them- 
selves about the matter. Most of these were feeding 
quietly, or if at times they looked up towards their 
belligerent lords, it was with an air of nonchalance and 
indifference, as if they cared nothing at all about the 
result. 

Our hunters felt confident that they had the whole 
flock in a trap. They had only to guard the pass by 
which they themselves had come up, and then hunt 
298 


Scattering tbe Cimmarona 


the big-horns over the table at their leisure. It was 
agreed, therefore, that lyucien with Marengo should 
remain there, while Basil and Francois stole up for a 
first shot. They lost no time in putting this plan into 
execution. They perceived that the fight completely 
occupied the attention of the animals ; and, taking ad- 
vantage of this, Basil and Francois crept over the 
ground — sheltering themselves, as well as they could 
— until they had got within easy range. Both arrived 
together behind a little clump of acacias ; and, by a 
signal from Basil, they raised themselves together to 
take aim. As they did so, they saw one of the rams, 
who had been backing himself for a rush, suddenly 
disappear over the edge of the cliff ! They thought he 
had tumbled over — as his legs were the last of him 
they had seen — but they had no time to speculate upon 
the matter, as both pulled trigger at the moment. 
Two of the animals were laid prostrate by their fire ; 
while the rest bounded off, ran out to a point of the 
table, and there halted. 

Basil and Francois leaped to their feet, shouting to 
Lucien to be on the alert ; but, to their great surprise, 
the cimmarons, as if newly terrified by their shouts, 
and finding their retreat cut off, sprang over the preci- 
pice, disappearing instantly from view ! 

“They must be all killed,” thought Basil and 
Francois ; and, calling Tucien to come up, all three 
ran to the point where the animals had leaped off, and 
299 


Ube Ibunters 


looked over. They could see the plain below, but no 
big-horns ! What had become of them ? 

“ Yonder ! ” cried Francois ; “ yonder they go ! ” 
and he pointed far out upon the prairie where several 
reddish-looking objects were seen flying like the wind 
toward the far bluffs of the lylano Kstacado. Tucien 
now directed the eyes of his brothers to several ledge- 
like steps upon the cliff, which, no doubt, the animals 
had made use of in their descent, and had thus been 
enabled to reach the bottom in safety. 

As soon as the cimmarons were out of sight, the 
hunters turned towards the two that had been shot — 
both of which, a male and female, lay stretched upon 
the grass and quite dead. The boys were about to 
commence skinning them, when Basil and Frangois 
remembered what they had observed just before firing ; 
and, curious to convince themselves whether the big- 
horn had actually tumbled over the cliff by accident or 
leaped off by design, they walked forward to the spot. 
On looking over the edge, they saw a tree shaking 
violently below them, and among its branches a large 
red body was visible. It was the cimmaron ; and, to 
their astonishment, they perceived that he was hang- 
ing suspended by one of his huge horns, while his 
body and legs, kicking and struggling, hung out at 
their full length in the empty air ! It was evident he 
liad tumbled from the top contrary to his intentions ; 
and had been caught accidently in the branches of the 


300 


Scattering tbe Cimmarons 


pine. It was a painful sight to witness the efforts of 
the poor creature ; but there was no means of getting 
him off the tree, as he was far beyond their reach ; and 
Basil, having loaded his rifle, in order to put an end to 
his agony, sent a bullet through his heart. The shot 
did not alter his position — as the horn still held on to 
the branch — but the animal ceased struggling and hung 
down dead, — to remain there, doubtless, until some 
hungry vulture should espy him from afar, and, swoop- 
ing down, strip the flesh from his swinging carcass ! 


301 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


BKSIEGKD BY GRIZZEY BEARS. 

HE young hunters now laid aside their guns, 



drew their knives, and skinned the cimmarons 


with the dexterity of practised ‘ ‘ killers. ’ ’ They then 
cut up the meat, so as the more conveniently to trans- 
port it to their camp. The skins they did not care for ; 
so these were suffered to remain on the ground where 
they had been thrown. 

As soon as the ‘ ‘ mutton ’ ’ was quartered, each 
shouldered a piece, and commenced carrying it toward 
the ravine, intending to return and bring the rest at 
another load or two. On reaching the point where the 
path came up on the table, they saw that it would be 
difficult for them to descend with their burdens — as it 
is more easy to climb a precipice than to get down one. 
Another plan suggested itself ; and that was, to pitch 
the pieces down before them to the bottom of the 
ravine. This they could accomplish without difficulty. 
It would do the meat no harm— as they intended to cut 
it up for jerking~“and they could easily wash out the 
dirt and gravel at the spring, when they had got it all 
there. 


302 


iBesicGeb (Bri33l^ Bears 


This plan was at once adopted ; and, taking up 
piece by piece they flung them down the chasm, and 
could see them lyifig among the rocks at the bottom. 
They then went back to the carcasses, took up fresh 
loads, and returned with them to the ravine. 

As they stepped forward to fling them over, a sight 
met their eyes that caused each one to drop his load 
upon the spot. Down near the bottom of the ravine, 
and moving among the pieces of meat, was a hideous 
object — a huge and ill-shaped animal. Its great size — 
its long shaggy hair and greyish brown colour — but, 
above all, its flerce aspect, left no doubt upon the 
minds of our hunters as to what sort of animal it was. 
There was no mistaking the dreaded monster of the 
mountains — the grizzly bear ! 

It was nearly twice the size of the common bear ; 
and it differed from the latter in other respects. Its 
ears were more erect ; its eyes, of burnt sienna colour, 
looked more flery and glaring ; its head and muzzle 
were broader — giving it an appearance of greater bold- 
ness and strength — and its long crescent-shaped claws, 
protruding from the shaggy covering of its feet, could 
be distinctly seen from the top of the cliff. With these 
it had just torn one of the pieces of mutton into 
smaller fragments, and was eagerly devouring it as 
the boys arrived on the height above. It was so busily 
engaged that it did not notice them. 

All three, as we have said, dropped their loads on 
303 


Ube tbunters 


the ground ; and, after pausing for a moment to look 
down, ran precipitately back for their guns. These 
they got hold of and examined with care, looking to 
their caps and nipples. They had already loaded 
them, before commencing to skin the cimmarons. 
They now stole cautiously back to the ravine, and 
again looked over its edge. To their consternation, 
not one hear^ but three of these horrid animals were 
busy with the meat below ! One was smaller than 
either of the others, and differed from them in colour. 
It vras quite black ; and might have passed for a full- 
grown bear of the black species. It was not that, 
however ; but a large cub, of which the other two 
were the parents. 

All three were tearing away at the fresh meat, 
evidently in high glee, and not caring to consider 
whence such a windfall had come, so long as they 
were getting the benefit of it. They occasionally 
uttered loud snorts — as if to express their gratifi- 
cation — and at intervals the old male one growled 
as the cub interfered with his eating. The female, 
on the contrary, as she tore the mutton into frag- 
ments, kept placing the daintiest morsels before the 
snout of her black progeny ; and with playful strokes 
of her paw admonished it from time to time to fall 
to and eat. Sometimes they ate standing erect, 
and holding the meat between their forepaws. At 
others they would place the piece upon a rock, and 
304 


SSesiegeC) bg ©rfsslg Bears 


devour it at their leisure. Their jaws and claws 
were red with the blood — that still remained in the 
hastil3^-butchered meat — and this added to the fero- 
cious aspect of the trio. 

Our adventurers gazed down upon the scene with 
feelings of the utmost terror ; and no wonder. They 
had heard such stories of the grizzly bear, as would 
have inspired stouter hearts than theirs with feel- 
ings of the kind. They knew that no hunter, when 
dismounted, ever dares to attack this animal ; and, 
even when on horseback and armed with his trusty 
rifle, he will only venture to do so when the ground 
is open, and he is sure of escape through the fleet- 
ness of his horse. They knew that hunters, even 
when in large parties, are often chased by a single 
bear of this kind, after each of them had given him 
a shot ; for as many as twenty bullets have been fired 
into the body of a grizzly bear without bringing 
him to the ground. All these facts came into the 
minds of our boy hunters at the moment. No wonder 
they felt fear. 

They were in a most perilous situation. The 
bears occupied the ravine. There was no other 
path by which they could get down to their horses. 
They had gone almost quite round the butte in 
their morning search. They had seen that it was 
precipitous on all sides, and they had since observ^ed 
that the space between the ravine and their point of 


ITbe IfDunters 


starting was the same. How, then, were they to get 
back to camp? There was no way but one — down 
the ravine — and the bears would be certain to attack 
them should they attempt to descend that way. 

The boys gazed at each other with terrified looks, 
repeating what they had to say in muttered whispers. 
All three well understood the danger of their position. 
Would the bears, after they had satisfied their hunger, 
go off and leave the ravine ? No. The cave, which had 
been noticed, was their lair, beyond a doubt. Even 
if they should enter it, what certainty was there that 
they would not rush out upon the boys as they were 
clambering down ? If so, they would easily overcome 
the latter among the loose rocks and bushes. One or 
all would fall a sacrifice should they attempt to descend. 
Might the bears not go out upon the plain ? Perhaps 
they might go out as far as the spring, either for water, 
or led by some other want. But even so, they would 
then be able to see the hunters coming down, and 
could easily overtake them before the latter could reach 
the camp, or their horses. The horses had been set 
loose, and were now a good distance off upon the 
prairie. There was but little consolation in this 
thought, and less in that which occurred to them 
next ; which was that the fierce brutes might not be 
satisfied at what they had eaten, but might take it 
into their heads to clamber up to the summit in search 
of more ! This apprehension was the most fearful of 
306 


iBesieget) 0ri33l^ Bears 


all — as the boys knew that there was no place upon 
the table where they could long conceal themselves ; 
and to get down, if once discovered and pursued, 
would be utterly impossible. 

Filled with these appalling thoughts, they crouched 
upon their hands and knees, now peering cautiously 
through the leaves of the aloes, and now whispering 
to each other the various plans of escape that sug- 
gested themselves. But all these plans ended in the 
faint hope that the bears might make a temporary 
absence from the ravine, and give them a chance to 
pass down. They could think of no other mode of 
extricating themselves from their dilemma. 

At times the idea occurred to Basil, of taking good 
aim, and firing at one or other of the huge ani- 
mals. Francois applauded this idea, while Tucien as 
strongly opposed it. The latter argued that it would 
only irritate the bears, and bring them up at once — 
that there was no chance of killing any of them by 
a single bullet, unless it passed through the brain or 
the heart ; and this, aiming, as they must do, over a 
cliff, was a very problematical affair. Even should 
one fall, the others would avenge the death of their 
comrade. A volley would not be likely to kill them all. 

Tucien’s arguments prevailed ; and the kss prudent 
brothers gave up their idea of firing, and remained 
silently gazing down as before. 

They lay for nearly half an hour watching and wait- 
307 


Ube :!Bo^ ITDunters 


ing. The bears finished their meal, having de- 
voured every bit of the meat. Were they satisfied ? 
No. A shoulder of mutton is but a morsel to the 
ravenous appetite of a grizzly bear ; and it seemed 
only to have set theirs upon edge. They guessed 
whence .their lunch had come — from above — and 
there was the place to go in search of their dinner. 
They looked up. The boys suddenly drew back 
their heads, hiding them behind the leaves. It was 
too late. The bears had seen them, and the next 
moment were galloping upward ! 

The first thought of our hunters was to fly, and with 
this intention they all sprang to their feet. 

But Basil, with a feeling of rage, was determined 
to try whether a rifle-bullet might not serve as a 
check to the advancing enemy. He levelled down 
the pass, and fired. His brothers, seeing him do so, 
followed his example — Francois emptying both bar- 
rels that had been loaded with buck-shot. One of 
the bears — the cub it was — tumbled back down 
the ravine ; but after the vollej^ the largest of all 
was seen clambering up, growling fiercely as he 
came. The hunters, not having time to reload, ran 
oiBf over the table — scarcely knowing what direction 
to take. 

When they had got half-way across it, all three 
stopped and looked back. The foremost bear was just 
rising above the cliff ; and the next moment his long 
308 


SSesiegeb 6ri33l^ Beats 


body was stretched out in pursuit of them. They had 
been in hopes that the pieces of meat might have at- 
tracted his attention, and drawn him aside. This did 
not happen. The meat was not directly upon his path ; 
moreover, the animal appeared infuriated as he ap- 
proached. He had been stung by the shot, and was 
bent upon revenge. 

It was a terrible moment. The angry monster was 
within three hundred yards of them. In a few seconds 
he would be upon them, and one or the other must 
become his victim. 

In crises like these, bold minds are the most apt to 
conceive expedients. So it was with that of Basil. 
On other occasions he was rash and often imprudent, 
but in moments of extreme danger he became cool and 
collected, even more so than his philosophic brother, 
Lucien. A thought, which hitherto had strangely been 
overlooked both by himself and his brothers, now in 
the hour of peril came into his mind. He remembered 
that the grizzly bear is not a tree-climber ! With the 
thought he shouted out, — 

‘ ‘ To the trees ! to the trees ! ” at the same time em- 
bracing one of the pines, and sprawling upwards as 
fast as he could climb. 

Both lyucien and Frangois imitated his example, 
each taking to the tree that grew nearest him — for the 
bear was not twenty paces behind them, and there was 
no time to pick and choose. Before the latter could 
309 


Ube Bob Ibuntera 


come up, however, all three were perched in the pines, 
as high among the branches as they could safely get. 

The bear galloped forward, and seeing where they 
had gone, ran from tree to tree, growling with rage 
and disappointment. He rose upon his hind-legs, and 
endeavoured to reach the lowermost branches with his 
forepaws — as if he intended to draw himself up, or 
drag the tree down. One by one he assailed the pines, 
shaking them with violence, and with his claws mak- 
ing the bark fly off in large pieces. One in particular 
— that upon which Francois had taken refuge — being 
a small tree, vibrated so rapidly under the powerful 
eSbrts of the brute, that its occupant was in danger of 
being dashed to the ground. But the fear of such an 
event caused Francois to put forth all his energies ; 
and, encouraged by the shouts of Basil and Lucien, 
he held on manfully. The bear, after a w^hile, seeing 
he could not shake him off, gave it up ; and again tried 
his strength upon the trees that had been climbed by 
the others. This ended as before ; except that the 
bear completely skinned off the bark as high as he 
could reach, and made such an impression upon the 
trunks with his teeth and claws, that the boys feared 
he might take it into his head to cut down the trees 
altogether. He could easily have accomplished this ; 
but, fortunately for them, the grizzly bear is not gifted 
with reasoning faculties, else their fate would have 
been a terrible one indeed. 


310 


IBcsiCQC^ (3rt33l^ Bears 


When he found, at length, that he could neither 
drag down the trees, nor shake the boys out of them, 
he gave up the attempt ; and for a time walked from 
one to the other, backwards and forwards, like a sen- 
try, now and then uttering a loud “ sniff,” and at in- 
tervals growling fiercely. At length he stretched his 
huge body along the ground, and appeared to sleep ! 

What had become of the female and the cub ? Had 
both fallen by the shots fired at them ? Neither had 
as yet made their appearance on the summit — for the 
boys from their perch could see every inch of its surface. 
They were still in the ravine then ; but whether dead 
or alive could not be determined. The dog Marengo, 
by a wise instinct, had not attacked the bear, but had 
escaped to one edge of the table, where he was crouch- 
ing and cowering with fear, taking care not to put 
himself in the way of being seen. 

The young hunters were now in a worse situation 
than ever. They dared not venture out of the trees 
without the certainty of dropping into the jaws of the 
monster ; and they were suffering pain as they sat 
straddled across the slender branches of the pines. 
Besides, they were thirsty — thirsty to an extreme de- 
gree. They had taken no water with them in the 
morning. The sun was fiercely hot ; and, even while 
engaged in skinning the big-horns,, they had been com- 
plaining for want of water. They now began to suffer 
from thirst more than from any other cause. Should 
311 


Ubc Ibunters 


the bear remain for any length of time, what would 
become of them ? They must either drop down to be 
at once torn to pieces, or perish slowly where they sat. 
These were the alternatives ! 

They could make no change in their situation. 
Their guns were upon the ground, where in their haste 
they had flung them. They dared not descend to re- 
cover them. They were utterly helpless ; and could 
do nothing but await the result. As if to tantalise 
them, they now beheld for the first time the objects of 
their far expedition — the animals they had so long de- 
sired to come up with — buffaloes ! Away to the 
southwest a multitude of black bodies were seen upon 
the plain, like crowds of men in dark clothing. They 
were moving to and fro, now uniting in masses, and 
now separating like the squadrons of an irregular 
army. Miles of the green prairie were mottled by 
their huge dark forms, or hidden altogether from the 
view. They seemed to be moving northward, along 
the level meadows that stretched between the butte 
and the Tlano Bstacado. This proved to be the case ; 
for in a few minutes the headmost had pushed forward 
on a line with the butte ; and our young hunters could 
distinguish the shaggy, lion-shaped bodies of the bulls 
that formed the vanguard of the “gang.” Under 
other circumstances this would have been a glad sight 
indeed. As it was, it only served to render their situa- 
tion more intolerable. The buffaloes were passing to 
312 


Besiegeb 6ri33l^ Bears 


the north. Even should they themselves escape, after 
a time they might not be able to overtake them ; and 
although they could distinguish none that were white 
— for the main body was a great way off — it was highly 
probable that in so large a herd one or more of these 
would be found. 

As all three continued to watch the black multitudes 
rolling past, an exclamation, or rather a shout of joy, 
was uttered by Basil. He was upon a tree that stood 
apart from the others and gave him an unobstructed 
view of the plains to the west. 

‘ ‘ Violh ! yonder ! ” he cried : ‘ ‘ see ! in the middle 
of the drove ! See, brothers ! — it shines in the sun — 
white — white ! Huzza ! — huzza ! ” 

Basil’s speech was scarcely coherent. Neither was 
that of his brothers, when they beheld the object to 
which he had alluded. It could be nothing else, all 
believed, than the object of their long wild hunt — a 
white buffalo. All three huzzaed loudly, and for a mo- 
ment forgot the peril of their position. Their shouts 
started the grizzly monster below, who, lazily rising to 
his feet, once more commenced growling and shuffling 
about among the trees. The sight of him soon restored 
the hunters to a sense of the fearful realities that sur- 
rounded them. 


313 


CHAPTER XXX. 


AN ESCAPE FROM THE BEAR SCRAPE- 
OR hours they sat upon their painful perch — now 



glancing downward at the fierce gaoler that 


watched unweariedly below — now gazing out upon the 
plain, where the dusky droves still continued to move. 
For hours the buffaloes kept passing northward, until 
the setting sun glanced redly from their brown bodies. 
Once or twice again the boys thought they saw white 
ones in the herd ; but their eyes had grown dim with 
watching, and the pain which they endured now ren- 
dered them indifferent to aught else than their own 
misery. Despair had conquered hope — for they were 
choking with thirst — and death stared them in the 


face. 


After a long while the bear again lay down, and 
placing his forepaws over his head appeared once more 
to sleep. Basil could stand it no longer ; and now re- 
solved to make an effort to escape. At all events he 
would try to bring about some change in their painful 
situation. 

Cautioning his brothers to remain silent, he slipped 


Bscape from tbe Bears 


down from his tree ; and, with the stealthy tread of a 
cat, crept over the ground in search of his rifle. He 
soon laid hands upon it ; and then, returning to his 
tree, climbed up again. The shaking of the branches 
as he did so, awoke the bear, who sprang to his feet, 
and rushed towards the tree. Had he been a moment 
sooner, it would have been ill for Basil, for the snout 
of the animal, as he reared upward against the trunk, 
almost touched the boy’s feet. It was an “ inch of a 
miss as good as a mile,” and Basil was saved. The 
next moment he was seated among the branches, and 
leisurely loading his rifle ! 

Strange to say, the bear appeared to comprehend this 
movement. As if aware of his danger, he kept out 
farther from the trees ; and, while rambling about, 
now, for the first time, stumbled upon what remained 
of the carcasses of the big-horns. These he proceeded 
to tear up, and devour. He was still within range of 
the rifle, though not for a sure shot ; but Basil, who 
knew he could load again, was determined either to 
force him farther off, or bring him within reach ; and 
with this intent he took aim and fired. The bullet hit 
the bear in the fore-shoulder, for he was seen to turn 
his head and tear at the spot with his teeth, all the 
while growling with rage and pain. Strange to say, 
he still continued to devour the meat ! 

Again Basil loaded and fired as before. This time 
the animal received the shot about the head, which 


315 


Ubc Bop Ibunters 


caused him to make fresh demonstrations of his fury. 
He dropped his prey, and galloped back among the 
trees, first clutching one and then another, making re- 
* pea ted efforts to drag them down. He at length came 
to Basil’s tree, and seized it in his fierce hug. This 
was exactly what the young hunter wanted. He had 
hastily reloaded, and as the bear stood upright under 
the branches, he leant downwards until the muzzle of 
his rifle almost touched the snout of the animal. Then 
came the report — a stream of fire was poured into the 
very face of the bear — and a crashing sound followed. 
As the smoke cleared off, the huge body was seen kick- 
ing and sprawling upon the ground. The leaden mes- 
senger had done its work. It had passed through the 
brain ; and in a few seconds the shaggy monster lay 
motionless upon the earth. 

The boys now dropped from the trees. Francois 
and Tucien ran for their guns, and all three having 
loaded with care proceeded toward the ravine. They 
stayed not to examine the enemy that had been slain. 
Thirst urged them on, and they thought only of get- 
ting to the spring below. They were full of hope that 
the she-bear and her cub had been killed by their first 
fire, and that they would now find the road clear. 

What was their disappointment when, on looking 
down the ravine, they saw the cub lying doubled up, 
near the bottom, and the old one standing sentry over 
it ! The cub was evidently dead. So much the worse 
316 


^Escape from tbe ifiSears 


— as the mother would not now leave it for a moment, 
and both were directly in the path. The latter was 
moving backward and forward upon a ledge of rock, at 
intervals approaching the cub and tossing its body 
with her snout, and then uttering a low querulous 
moan, that was painful to listen to ! 

The hunters saw at once that their situation was as 
bad as ever. Their retreat was cut off b}^ the infuri- 
ated mother, who might remain where she was for an 
indefinite time. Should they fire down upon her, and 
take the chances of once more escaping to the trees ? 
This was an alternative which they had reason to dread. 
Their painful experience decided them against it. What 
then ? Remain until after nightfall, and try to steal 
past in the darkness ? Perhaps the bear might retire 
to her cave, and give them an opportunity to do so. 
But in the meantirne they were dying of thirst ! 

At this moment a happy idea suggested itself to 
Liicien. He saw the cactus plants growing near. 
There were large globes of the echinocactus. He re- 
membered having read that these often assuaged the 
thirst of the desert traveller. The plants were soon 
reached, and their succulent masses laid open by the 
knives of the hunters. The cool watery fibres were 
applied to their lips ; and in a few minutes their thirst 
was alleviated and almost forgotten. Still the bear 
occupied the ravine, and so long as she remained there, 
there was no possible chance of their getting back to 

317 


Ube IFDuntets 


camp. They saw, however, that they could do noth- 
ing better than wait for the night, in hopes that 
the darkness might bring about something in their 
favour. 

, Night soon came on, but not darkness. It chanced 
to be a clear moonlight ; and they saw at once that it 
would then be quite as perilous to go down the ravine 
as it had been during the day. They could hear the 
snorting and growling of the monster below ; and they 
knew she still held the pass. Should they attempt to 
descend, she would discover them long before they 
could get down. She could hear them clambering 
among the rocks and bushes. The advantage would 
be hers, as she could attack them unawares. Besides, 
even had the coast been quite clear, they would have 
found it difficult to get down the steep descent in the 
night. They dared not attempt it. After much de- 
liberation, therefore, they resolved to wait for the 
morning. 

Throughout all the live-long night they kept awake. 
They heard their steeds neighing below — wondering, 
poor brutes, what had become of their masters. The 
hinny of Jeanette echoed wildly from the cliffs, and 
was answered by the bark and howl of the prairie 
wolf. These sounds, together with the more ominous 
snort of the bear, kept sleep from the eyes of our ad- 
venturers. They dared not go to sleep, unless by 
perching themselves in the trees ; as they knew not 
318 


:!Escape from tbe JSears 


the moment the bear might come up to the summit. 
Sleeping upon the slender branch of a mountain pine 
is more painful than pleasant ; and all three preferred 
keeping awake. 

Morning broke at length. The first light showed 
that the shaggy sentinel was still at her post. She 
sat upon the same spot, as though she was guarding 
her dead offspring. The young hunters, but particu- 
larly Basil, began to grow impatient. They were 
hungry, though there were still left some fragments 
of the wild mutton, which they could have eaten. 
But they were thirsty as well. The juice of the 
cactus allayed, but did not quench, their thirst. 
They longed for a draught of cool water from the 
spring below. The buffaloes, too, were gone north- 
ward, “on the run.” They might never overtake 
them. They might never again have such an op- 
portunity of procuring that, for which they had 
endured all this suffering. These thoughts influ- 
enced all three, but Basil more than any. Some 
attempt must be made to reach the plain, and 
escape from their elevated prison. 

Basil proposed provoking the bear, by firing upon 
her. She would pursue them, he urged, as the other 
had done, and meet with a similar fate. This might 
have succeeded, but it would have been a dangerous 
experiment. Lucien suggested that two of them 
should go round the edge of the precipice and examine 

319 


tube JBo^ IbunterB 


it more carefully, while the third kept a watch upon 
the bear. Perhaps there might yet be found some 
other path that led to the plain. This offered but a 
faint hope ; still it would take only a few minutes to 
make the examination, and Tucien’s proposal was 
therefore agreed to. 

“If we only had a rope,” suggested Prangois, “ we 
could let ourselves over the cliff, and then the old 
grizzly might stay there for ever, if she pleased.” 

“ Ha ! ” shouted Basil, as if some plan had sud- 
denly come into his mind, ‘ ‘ what dunces we have 
been ! Why did we not think of it before ? Come, 
brothers ! I ’ll get you down in the twinkling of an 
eye — come ! ” 

As Basil uttered these words, he strode off towards 
the spot where they had butchered the big-horns. On 
reaching it he drew his hunting-knife ; and having 
spread out one of the skins, proceeded to cut it into 
strips. lyucien, at once guessing his design, assisted 
him in the operation ; while Francois was sent back to 
the head of the ravine, in order to watch the bear. 

In a few minutes the brothers had cut up both of the 
hides, until the ground was covered with long strips. 
These they knotted firmly together — placing cross- 
pieces of pine branches in the knots — until they had 
made a raw-hide rope over one hundred feet in length ! 

They now proceeded to a convenient point of the 
cliff — where a pine-tree grew near its edge — and tied 


320 


Escape from tbe :Bear6 


one end of the new-made rope around the trunk. To 
the other end they fastened Marengo, the three guns 
— for Francois had arrived upon the ground — and, 
along with these, a large stone — in order to test the 
strength of the rope before any of themselves should 
venture upon it. All these things were now lowered 
down until they could see them resting upon the prairie 
below. 

The rope was next made taut above ; and the weight 
of the stone — which was too heavy for Marengo to 
move — kept all fast below. Francois slipped down the 
rope first. There was but little difficulty in his doing 
so ; as the pieces of wood formed rests, or steps, that 
prevented him from sliding too fast. Tucien followed 
next, and then Basil ; so that in less than half an hour, 
from the time that this plan of escape had occurred to 
them all three found themselves safe upon the level 
of the prairie. 

They did not waste time when they had got there. 
Marengo was released, and the whole party hurried 
in the direction of their horses. These were soon 
reached, caught, and saddled ; and our hunters, now 
that they could mount at any moment they pleased, 
felt themselves safe. 

They resolved, however, to remain no longer by the 
butte, but to ride away from it, as soon as they had 
eaten a morsel. A small fire was, therefore, kindled ; 
and a piece of bear-meat, hastily broiled, satisfied their 


Ubc IFDunters 


hunger. Basil would have gone back on horseback, 
to attack the old she-bear in the ravine ; but the more 
prudent I^ucien dissuaded him ; and, holding their 
horses in readiness, they packed their camp equipments 
upon Jeanette, and once more took the route. 


322 


CHAPTER XXXI. 


THE VUETURES and their KING. 

T hey turned their horses’ heads westward, it 
was their intention to travel in that direction 
until they should strike the tracks of the buffaloes, 
when they would turn to the north, follow upon the 
trail of these animals, and endeavour to come up with 
the great herd. This was clearly the best course they 
could adopt. 

As they were riding past the western extremity of 
the butte, a flock of large birds drew their attention. 
They were vultures. The boys now remembered the 
cimmaron that had fallen over the cliff ; and, looking 
up, they beheld its body still swinging from the tree. 
It was that which had attracted the vultures. 

There were many of them — over an hundred in the 
“ flock. Some were sailing about in the air. Others 
had alighted on the top of the cliff, or perched them- 
selves on the branches of the pines, while a few hov- 
ered around the carcass, occasionally settling a moment 
upon its stiffened limbs, and endeavouring to penetrate 
the hide with their beaks. They had already torn out 


323 


Xlbe Ibunters 


the eyes of the animal, but the tough skin of the body 
still resisted their attacks. 

These birds were larger than ravens, and of a dark 
colour— nearly black. At a distance they appeared 
purely black ; but, upon a nearer view, an admixture 
of brownish feathers could be perceived, and this was 
apparent in some of them more than in others. To a 
careless observer they would all have passed for birds 
o4 the same species, although that was not the case. 
There were two distinct species of them, the ‘ ‘ turkey- 
buzzard” {Cathartes aura), and the black vulture 
{Cathartes atratus). Our boys knew them well enough 
— for both kinds are common in Louisiana, and through- 
out all the southern part of the United States. 

I have said that a careless observer would mistake 
the one species for the other. They are nearly of the 
same size and colour, though the carrion-crow is of 
a deeper black than the buzzard ; but there are other 
points of difference that would strike the eye of 
a naturalist at once. The buzzard is a much more 
handsomely formed bird, and is more graceful, both 
upon the ground and while sailing through the air. 
His wings are longer and more elegantly plumed, and 
his tail is more tapering. The skin of his naked head 
and neck, as well as that of his legs, is of a reddish- or 
flesh colour ; while the same parts of the black vulture 
are a mixture of black and grey — the black being 
caused by a down that grows thinly over the skin. 
324 


tCbe Dultures anb tTbeir Ikin^j 


They are easily distinguished in the air. The black 
vulture flies rather heavily — flapping his wings several 
times with a quick repetition, and then holding them 
horizontally for a hundred yards or so — while his short 
ill-proportioned tail is spread out like a fan. The 
buzzard, on the contrary, holds his wings at rest — not 
in a horizontal position, but bent considerably upward. 
In this attitude he will .skim along for a quarter of a 
mile, without a single stroke of his wings, and that, 
too, not downward as may be supposed, but along a 
level, or a line often curving upward ! How he exe- 
cutes this upward movement is not known. Some 
suppose that he possesses the power of inflating him- 
self with heated air, which enables him to soar upward 
without using his wings. This theory is not very 
clear, and requires demonstration before it can be ac- 
cepted as the true one. Others say that he is carried 
up by the impetus he has already obtained, by having 
previously descended from an equal or greater height. 
This is not true, however, as the buzzard may be often 
seen to rise in this way after a long flight along the 
level line. It is just possible that the same principle 
by which the New Holland savages direct their boom- 
erangs, or by which flat stones thrown horizontally 
often take an upward direction— a fact known to every 
boy — I say it is just possible that this principle, as yet 
but little understood, may be instructively acted on by 
the buzzard, and have something to do with his flight. 


Ube JSop Ibunters 


Be the facts as they may, it is an interesting sight to 
watch one of these birds, with broad wings outlined 
against the blue background of the heavens, now 
swimming in circles, now shooting off in horizontal 
lines, and anon soaring upward or tracing the undu- 
lating curves of the ogee. It is, to say the least of it, 
a striking and beautiful sight. 

The turkey-buzzard is, upon the whole, a nobler 
bird than the black vulture. There is more of the 
eagle about him. Both, it is true, are carrion feeders, 
like all vultures ; but the buzzard also hunts after 
other food, such as snakes, lizards, and small quadru- 
peds. He will attack young lambs or pigs, when a 
good opportunity offers. So, too, will the black vul- 
ture, but not so frequently. Neither of them, however, 
does much harm in this respect ; and their preying on 
such animals is an exception, and not a rule. They 
only do so, probably, when driven to it by hunger. 
Both species are gregarious, although they do not al- 
ways appear in flocks. The • buzzards particularly 
are often seen hunting alone, or in twos or threes • but 
their mode of life brings them together in large num- 
bers. They often assemble — both buzzards and black 
vultures — to the number of hundreds, over a single 
carrion. The buzzards, however, are not so plenty as 
the black vultures ; and in one of these flocks more 
than three-fourths will be found of the latter species. 
The buzzards are the shyer birds ; and thej^ are less 
326 


Ube IDultures anb Ubciv Iking 


disposed to keep together in flocks. It has even been 
said that these are not gregarious, as they are often 
seen alone in the high regions of the air. But it is 
certain that not only do numbers of them roost together 
at night, but they even associate with the black vul- 
tures at such times. 

In most countries the vulture is a privileged bird. 
He is looked upon as a cheap and useful scavenger, 
clearing away the carcasses of dead animals, that 
would otherwise pollute the atmosphere. This is a 
matter of much importance in hot countries ; and it is 
only in such countries that vultures are commonly 
found. What a beautiful illustration of the complete- 
ness of Nature’s laws ! As you get into high latitudes 
and colder regions — where the air is not so readily 
tainted by putrid substances — the necessity for such a 
scavenger no longer exists, and he is rarely met with. 
There the great vulture gives place to the croaking 
raven, and the small carrion-crow. 

Vultures, I have said, are privileged birds. In most 
countries they are protected by law. This is the case 
with regard to the present species, both in English and 
Spanish America, where there is a flne for killing 
them. The consequence is, they are seldom molested ; 
and in many places are so tame that they will permit 
you to come within a few feet of them. In the cities 
and villages of the Southern States they alight in the 
streets, and go to sleep upon the house-tops. They do 
327 


Ube IfDunters 


the same in the cities of Mexico and South America, 
where both species are also found. 

As soon as our young hunters had got opposite the 
cliff where the vultures were, they reined up, deter- 
mined to remain awhile, and watch the manoeuvres of 
the birds. They were curious to see how the latter 
would conduct themselves with a prey so singularly 
situated, as was the carcass of the cimmaron. They 
did not dismount, but sat in their saddles, about an 
hundred yards from the cliff. The vultures, of course, 
did not regard their presence ; but continued to alight, 
both upon the escarpment of the precipice and upon 
the loose rocks at its foot, as if no one was near. 

“ How very like the buzzards are to hen turke3^s ! ” 
remarked Francois. 

“Yes,” rejoined Tucien, “that is the reason why 
they are called ‘ turkey-buzzards. ’ ’ ’ 

Francois’ observation was a very natural one. 
There are no two birds, absolutely of the same species, 
that are more like each other than a turkey-buzzard and 
a small-sized turkey-hen — that is, the common domestic 
turkey of the black variety, which, like the buzzard, is 
usually of a brownish colour. So like are they, that, at 
the distance of an hundred yards, I have often taken the 
one for the other. This resemblance, however, extends 
no farther than to the general appearance — the shape 
and colour. In most other respects they differ, as you 
may imagine, very materially. 

328 


Ubc IDultures ant) TLbciv If^mo 


“Talking of turkey-buzzards,” continued Tucien, 
“reminds me of an. anecdote that is told in relation 
to one.” 

“ Oh ! let us have it, brother,” said Francois. 

“With pleasure,” replied Tticien. “It is intended 
to illustrate the superior cunning of the white over the 
Indian race ; and is a pretty fair sample of the honesty 
and justice which the former has too often observed in 
its dealings with the latter. It is as follows : 

“A white man and an Indian went out together 
for a day’s hunting. They agreed that the game 
should be equally divided at night, no matter who 
had killed the largest share of it. During the day 
the Indian shot a turkey, and the white hunter a 
turkey -buzzard ; and these two birds were all that 
either of them was able to meet with. The proceeds 
of the day’s hunt were brought together; and now 
arose a difficulty about an equal division of the game. 
Both knew well enough the value of a good fat turkey ; 
and b^th were as well acquainted with the utter worth- 
lessness of the buzzard — which was in fact worth less 
than nothings as its filthy odour was extremely repul- 
sive. It was evident that the only way of making a 
fair division would have been to cut the turkey in two 
equal parts, and each to take one of the halves. The 
white man, however, would not agree to this ; but pro- 
posed that one of them should take the whole turkey, 
and the other the buzzard. 

329 


Ubc Bop IF^unters 


“ ‘ It ’s a pity/ argued he, ‘ to spoil the birds. It ’s 
better for each of us to take one. ’ 

“‘Very well,’ said the Indian. ‘Shall we draw 
lots for the choice ? ’ 

“‘Oh, no,’ replied the other. ‘It’s not worth 
while to do that. I ’ll deal fairly with you. I ’ll take 
the turkey, and let you have the buzzard ; or, jou 
can take the buzzard^ and I ’ll keep the turkey.’ 

‘ ‘ The Indian reflected that in either case the buz- 
zard would fall to his share ; but the white man’s 
proposition seemed a just one ; and, as he could And 
no flaw in its fairness, he was constrained, though 
reluctantly, to accept it. The white hunter, there- 
fore, shouldered his turkey, and trudged off homewards, 
leaving the poor Indian supperless in the woods.’’ 

“ Ha ! ha ! ha ! ’’ laughed Fran9ois, “what a shal- 
low Indian he must have been to be so easily out- 
witted ! ’’ 

“Ah!’’ said Tucien, “he was not the only one 
of his race, who has been similarly deceived by%vhite 
men. Many a pewter dollar has been passed upon 
these simple sons of the forest, in exchange for their 
furs and peltries. I have reason to suspect that one 
very rich fur-trader, now dead, laid the foundation of 
his immense fortune in this way ; but my suspicions 
do not amount to positive proof, and therefore I do not 
assert it for a fact. Perhaps some historian may one 
day assail even the character of the good Penn ; who 
330 


XLbc IDuitures anb Ubciv 


is said to have purchased from the Indians a territory 
of three square miles^ but took care to have it measured 
off as three miles square! I hope the story is not a 
true one.” 

“Why, that,” said Francois, “is almost the same 
trick as Dido performed with the bull’s hide.” 

“Yes,” replied his brother; “so you see that dis- 
honesty belongs exclusively to no age or nation. It 
has existed in the past, and will continue to exist, 
until men, becoming more and more highly educated, 
will be moved by nobler ambition than the mere spirit 
of gain. I believe there is such a time in the far 
future. ’ ’ 

The conversation was again directed to the subject 
of the vultures. These now formed a flock of at 
least two hundred ; and others were still arriving 
upon the ground. As fresh ones came, they would 
wheel about for awhile in the air, and then drop 
down and perch themselves on the trees and rocks. 
Some sat crouching with drooping wings, and heads 
drawn in — so that their long naked necks were quite 
concealed under their ruff-like collars. Others stood 
erect, with both wings raised from the body, half un- 
folded, and held “a-kimbo,” as eagles are often seen, 
and as they are sometimes represented upon coins 
and standards. It is supposed that both vultures 
and eagles spread their wings in this fashion to cool 
themselves when they are too warm, and sun them- 


331 


Ube IF^untera 


selves when too cold — for they do so in cold, as well as 
warm weather ; and in this attitude they exhibit a 
singular and rather pleasing picture. 

Some of the vultures could be seen descending from 
the very highest regions of the air. They could be 
noted like little specks against the blue sky, gradually 
growing larger and larger, until their broad wings 
cast moving shadows upon the sunlit sward, as the 
birds floated spirally downward. Others were observed 
approaching in a horizontal direction — some of them 
seeming no bigger than sparrows, as they first caught 
the eye upon the distant horizon. 

“What a distance some of them must have tra- 
velled ! “ remarked Francois ; “and how do you think 
they know where to come? There was not one in 
sight when we killed those big-horns.” 

“ They have been guided by their scent, of course,” 
replied Basil ; “ they have great powder in that way.” 

“Not so, brother,” interrupted Lucien ; “that is 
one of the errors of your closet-naturalists — your Buf- 
fons and Cuviers — propagated by them, until it has 
become proverbial. Strange to say, it is altogether 
erroneous. It has been proved that vultures possess 
the sense of smell in a less degree even than most other 
creatures. Dogs and wolves far excel them in this 
respect.” 

“How, then, have they found this carrion, for 
instance? ” 


332 


Ube l)ultures anb Ubeir Iking 


“By their sight — for that sense they possess in a 
high degree of perfection.” 

“But how can that be, L^uce?” rejoined Basil. 
“See! yonder are some coming from the eastward. 
Now, as the butte is between them and the big-horn, 
how is it possible they could have seen it ? ” 

“ I do not say they have ; but they have seen others, 
who have seen others, who in their turn have seen 
others, who actually have seen the carrion.” 

“Oh! I understand; you mean that some one or 
more have first spied it ; and, while making towards 
it, have been observed by others at a greater distance ; 
and those again who have followed them have been 
followed by others still more distant, and so on.” 

‘ ‘ Precisely so ; and this at once accounts for the 
fabulous stories of vultures scenting carrion at the 
distance of miles — none of which stories are true, but 
have been propagated by men who, perhaps, never saw 
a vulture in the air, but who, in order to make their 
books amusing, have readily adopted the exaggerated 
tales of every Munchausen they could meet with.” 

“Your theory is certainly the more probable one.” 

“ It is the true one. It has been proved to be so by 
numerous experiments with vultures ; all of which 
have gone to show, that these birds have anything but a 
keen sense of smell. On the contrary it is remarkably 
weak ; and I think it is well for them it is so, consid- 
ering the sort of food they live upon.” 

333 


Ubc Ibunters 


“This flock must have gathered from all parts,” 
remarked Francois ; “ we see them coming in from 
every point of the compass. No doubt some of them 
have travelled fifty miles. ’ ’ 

“As likely an hundred,” rejoined Lucien. “Such 
a journey is a mere bagatelle to them. Now, if I 
knew the precise moment at which the carrion w^as 
discovered by the first one, I could tell how far each 
of the others had come — that is, each of them whose 
arrival we are now witnessing. ’ ’ 

“ But how could you do that, brother? ” demanded 
Basil and Fran9ois, in astonishment ; ‘ ‘ pray tell us 
how ? ’ ’ 

“I should make my calculation thus: In the first 
place, they have all started at the same time'^ 

‘ ‘ At the same time ! ’ ’ interrupted Basil ; ‘ ‘ how can 
that be, if some of -them were an hundred miles off?” 

“ No matter what distance,” replied Tucien ; “ it is 
all the same. They have all commenced their flight 
hither, not exactly^ but nearly^ at the same moment. 
Is it not plain? These birds, while hunting for 
their food, sweep through the air in great circles. 
Each of these circles overlooks a large tract of the 
earth’s surface below. Their circumferences approach 
or intersect each other — so that, in fact, the whole 
country is under a network of them. Now, as soon 
as one of the vultures, thus sailing about, discovers 
with far-seeing eye the carrion below, he immedi- 


334 


Ubc IDultures anb Ubeir Iktna 


ately drops from his high orbit, and wings his way- 
downward. He is observed by that one circling near- 
est him ; who, well knowing the cause of the altered 
flight of his companion, at once forsakes his own orbit 
and follows ; and he, in his turn, is followed by an- 
other ; and so on to the end of the chain. ’ ’ 

“ But how can one of them tell that the other is 
gone in pursuit of prey ? ’ ’ inquired Frangois, interrupt- 
ing lyucien in his explanation. 

“Suppose you saw Basil at a great distance off on 
the prairie, could you not tell by his actions when he 
had started game, and was in pursuit of it? ” 

“ Oh ! yes ! I could easily.” 

“ Well, then, the vultures, who have far keener 
sight than you, understand each other’s movements 
thoroughly — even to the shaking of a feather — so that 
they can easily tell when one of their number has a 
good dinner in sight. 

“I think I have shown,” continued Lucien, “that 
they all start within a few seconds of the same time ; 
and as they fly in a nearly direct line towards the ob- 
ject, if we knew the rate at which they go, it would 
only remain for us to mark the date of their arrival, to 
be able to tell how far they had come. Of course it is 
supposed that we have already noted the time when 
the first one came upon the spot. 

“If we suppose,” continued Fucien, as he pointed 
up to the vultures, “ that the first of these has alighted 
335 


Zbc IFDunters 


here two hours ago, and we allow them a flight of 
thirty miles an hour, we may then safely conclude 
that some of those now coming in have made a jour- 
ney of sixty miles this morning. What think you of 
my theory ? ’ ’ 

“ It is, to say the least of it, a curious one, brother,” 
replied Basil. 

“ But what are they waiting for now ? ” demanded 
Francois ; “why don’t they at once fall to, and devour 
the big-horn ? ” 

Francois’ interrogatory was a very natural one. 
Most of the vultures, instead of attacking the carrion, 
were, as we have already seen, sitting perched upon 
rocks and trees — some of them in listless attitudes, as 
though they were not hungry, and did not care to 
eat. 

Basil proffered an explanation. 

“No doubt,” said he, “they are waiting until the 
flesh becomes putrid. It is said that they prefer it in 
that state.” . 

“ And that,” remarked Fucien, “ is another asser- 
tion that has no foundation in fact. They do not pre- 
fer it in that state. On the contrary it is certain that 
vultures like their food better when fresh, and eat it so 
when they can get it.” 

“And what hinders them now?” inquired Fran- 
cois. 

“ The tough hide hinders them. These birds do not 
33 ^> 


Ube IDultures anb Ubeir Iking 


possess the great muscular power in their claws that 
eagles do, else 3^ou would soon see the big-horn reduced 
to a skeleton. They are waiting until its skin becomes 
more tender, through decomposition, so that they 
may be able to tear it open. That is why they are 
waiting.” 

Such was evidently the true explanation ; for each 
of the new-comers was seen to attack the carcass ; and, 
after finding he could make nothing of it, fly off and 
settle quietly down on the rocks or trees. 

As the boys watched them, however, some more 
eager than the rest effected an incision — at the spot 
where Basil’s bullet had entered the body of the ani- 
mal — and were rapidly widening it. The others, per- 
ceiving this, began to fly toward the spot ; and, in less 
than five minutes, the tree was black with the filthy 
birds, until they crowded each other upon the branches. 
Several perched upon the limbs and horns of the animal 
itself, until there was not a space left for another to 
stand upon. But their united weight, combined with 
that of the carcass, was too much for the roots of the 
pine. A loud crash was heard, followed by the sharp 
rat-like squeaking of the vultures, as they flapped hur- 
riedly away ; and as the broken tree bent downwards, 
the body of the big-horn was precipitated to the earth, 
and fell upon the rocks below ! 

There was a great commotion among the assembled 
birds ; and the sound of their broad wings, hurriedly 


Ubc Ibunters 


beating the air, could have been heard for miles off ; 
but their fright was soon over, and they all settled down 
again near the carrion. 

The accident was in their favour rather than other- 
wise. The already decomposing body, by falling from 
such a vast height upon the sharp rocks, was mangled, 
and the skin burst open ! This the foul birds were not 
slow in perceiving ; and first one, and then another, 
flapped towards it, and commenced their horrid meal. 
In a few moments they were crowding over the body, 
hissing like geese, striking at each other with wings, 
beak, and claws, and altogether exhibiting such a 
scene of ravenous hunger and angry passion as would 
be difficult to portray. They soon got in among the 
entrails of the animal, and commenced dragging them 
forth. Sometimes two of them would seize a long 
string of these, and each swallowing from opposite 
ends, would meet each other in the middle of the piece. 
Then would be witnessed a singular scene, as the birds 
dragged one another over the ground, each trying to 
make the other disgorge his filthy morsel ! The young 
hunters, amused by these curious episodes, agreed to 
remain and watch them for awhile ; and wdth this in- 
tent they dismounted from their horses, so as to relieve 
the animals of their weight. 

A new object of interest now presented itself to their 
attention. Francois discovered it. Francois had been 
directing his eyes upward, watching the graceful mo- 
338 


Ube Cultures anb Ubeir Iking 


tions of such of the vultures as were still in the air. All 
at once he was heard to exclaim : 

‘ ‘ A white buzzard ! a white buzzard ! ’ ’ 

IvUcien and Basil saw that Francois pointed to the 
sky overhead. They raised their eyes in that direc- 
tion. There, sure enough, was a white bird ; but of 
what species neither of them could make out. It was 
flying at a vast elevation — higher, apparently, than 
any of the buzzards ; but even at that great height it 
appeared larger than any of them. Tike them, it 
seemed to sail about with great ease, as if the sky was 
its natural home. 

When first observed, it appeared about as large as a 
gull ; and the boys might have taken it for one — not 
knowing any other white bird likely to be flying about 
at such a height — but as there were several buzzards 
near it, and evidently below it, and as these looked no 
bigger than swallows, what must be its size? It was 
not only bigger than a buzzard, but at least three 
times the size of any one of them. Thus calculated 
Lucien, and his calculation was not far from the 
truth. 

The strange bird then could be no gull. What was 
it ? A swan ? No. Its mode of flight answered that 
question at once. It bore no resemblance whatever 
to the short rapid flapping of the swan, iior to the 
flight of any water-bird. Was it a pelican? or per- 
haps a white ibis ( Tantalus alba) ? or the white egret 
339 


Ube Bop Ibiinters 


heron {Ardea egrettd)! No; it was none of these. 
The slow, laborious flight of these great wading birds 
would have been at once recognised by any of the 
boys, who were accustomed to see them often hover- 
ing over the bayous of Louisiana. But this bird flew 
differently from any of these. It used its wings more 
after the manner of the buzzards themselves or the 
black vultures ; but as the boys could think of no 
white bird of similar flight, they were puzzled as to 
what it might be. Its size and mode of fl3dng would 
have led them to believe it was an eagle ; but its 
colour forbade this supposition. There were no white 
eagles, that ever they had heard of. 

I have said that, when flrst seen by Francois, the 
strange bird appeared about the size of a gull ; but 
as the young hunters stood gazing up at it, they saw 
that it was gradually becoming larger and larger. 
They knew from this that it was descending towards 
the earth, and, to all appearance, directly over the 
spot occupied by themselves and the vultures. As 
they had all three grown verj^ curious to know what 
sort of a creature it might be, they were expressing 
their hopes that it would continue its descent. They 
knew that it must have seen them already ; and it 
would, therefore, be useless for them to attempt con- 
cealing themselves. In fact, there was no cover for 
them, had they wished to do so. 

As they stood watching and waiting, an exclama- 


340 


tlbe Cultures anb TTbeir Ibtna 


tion, littered by all three at the same moment, an- 
nounced that another white bird was in sight ! It was 
still high up, like a spot of snow upon the sky ; but 
it, too, was making downward, in the track of the 
former, and appeared to be of the same species. This 
soon became evident ; for the last one seen, descend- 
ing more vertically, soon overtook the other; and 
both together continued to sail downward upon a spiral 
curve. 

In a few moments they had arrived within two hun- 
dred yards of the earth ; and now they circled slowly 
around, looking down as they flew. 

They w^ere directly over the spot occupied by the vul- 
tures ; and as the day was one of the brightest, the 
boys had an opportunity of beholding two of the most 
beautiful bird^ they had ever seen. They were not en- 
tirely white — although, in looking at them from below, 
they appeared so ; but as, in sailing round the circle, 
they sometimes held themselves sideways in the air, 
their backs at intervals could be seen distinctly. It 
was then noticed that the upper part of their bodies 
was of a rich cream colour, while their wings above — 
both plumes and coverts — were of a glossy brown. 
Their tails were tipped with black ; but the whole of 
the under part of their bodies was of a pure milk-like 
white. But the most singular appearance about these 
birds was presented on their heads and necks. These 
were entirely naked of feathers as far down as the 


341 


Zhc Ibunters 


shoulders — where the neck was encircled by a large 
ruff that looked like a tippet — and the naked skin of 
both head and neck exhibited the most brilliant colours 
of orange and red. These colours were not mixed nor 
mottled together ; but each belonged to separate parts 
of the membrane, forming distinct and regular figures 
— according to the manner in which the cartilaginous 
covering is itself most singularly divided. Their beaks 
were orange-red ; and over their bases grew crest-like 
protuberances, like the comb of a cock. Their eyes 
had dark pupils and white irides, encircled by rings 
of a deep red colour ; and, in short, the whole appear- 
ance of these beautiful creatures was such that, Jike 
the peacock, when once seen, they could never be for- 
gotten. 

‘ ‘ I have never seen one of them befoi;e, ’ ’ remarked 
Tucien, “ but I have no difficulty in telling what they 
are.” 

“What? ” inquired Basil and Francois impatiently. 

‘ ‘ King vultures. ’ ’ 

As lyiicien said this, the birds, that did not seem to 
regard the presence of the party, swooped suddenly 
down towards the carrion. The boys followed them 
with their eyes — curious to witness what effect their 
arrival would have upon the buzzards and black vul- 
tures. To the surprise of all, not one of the latter was 
now to be seen near the carcass ! While the attention 
of the party had been directed to the king vultures, 
342 


U\K IDultures anb XTbeir IFang 


the others had been regarding them as well ; and, know- 
ing from experience what these great birds were, both 
buzzards and black vultures had scattered precipitately, 
and now sat upon the rocks at a respectful distance ! 

The king vultures, without seeming to heed their 
presence, hopped up to the carrion, and commenced 
tearing it with their beaks. In a few minutes these 
creatures, that had appeared so clean and beautiful — 
for the king vultures are as proud of their plumage as 
peacocks, and usually keep it in the best order — exhib- 
ited a picture of filth that was disgusting to look upon. 
The brilliant hue of their heads and necks was changed 
into a dark blood colour ; and their white breasts be- 
came dappled with gore. Their vulturous appetites 
rendered them regardless of all else. • 

“ Shall we fire, and kill one ? ” asked Francois. 

“ No,” said Tucien, “it is not right to deprive the 
poor creatures of life. If you wish to get a nearer view 
of them, have patience, and your wish may be gratified 
without the expenditure of powder and lead.” 

What lyucien said proved correct. At the end of 
half an hour or so, the birds appeared to have eaten as 
much as they could get into their stomachs ; and com- 
menced stalking over the ground with a heavy sluggish 
gait. The boys, who had waited patiently, now ran 
forward ; and, finding that the vultures were unable 
to rise into the air, after a chase — in which Marengo 
took a prominent part — secured them both. 

343 


TLbc Ibunters 


But they did not hold them long ; for the moment 
that Fran9ois, who was the most eager to seize them, 
laid his hands upon one, he let it go again with an 
exclamation of disgust ; and ran faster from the vul- 
ture than the latter could run from him ! 

The fetid odour of the creatures — which was quite 
as strong as that of the carrion itself — was too much 
for the olfactor}^ nerves of our heroes ; and th6y were 
all three glad enough to let the king vultures off with- 
out a second encounter. 

As they returned to their horses, they observed that 
the buzzards and black vultures were once more col- 
lecting about the remains of the big-horn. They had 
been joined by several prairie wolves; and these were 
snarling and snapping — now driving off the birds, and 
now receiving a blow from the long wings of the latter 
that caused them to growl more fiercely than ever. 
Our adventurers did not wait for the fiytale of this hid- 
eous scene ; but remounting, once more headed their 
horses to the prairie. 


344 


CHAPTER XXXII. 


MORK TARK ABOUT THE VUUTURKS. 

T hey conversed about the vultures, as they rode 
away from the butte. The naturalist of the 
party had much to say of these picturesque birds ; and 
the curiosity of Basil and Francois had been excited by 
the appearance of a species new to them — the king 
himself. 

“With regard to the vultures,” observed Eucien, 
“ the study of their natural history has been consider- 
ably impeded by the closet-naturalists, and particularly 
by the Frenchmen — who are fonder than all others of 
making a parade of science, by the absurd multiplica- 
tion of genera and species. This, in the absence of 
any real knowledge of the habits of the animals, gives 
them an opportunity of adding something to what has 
been already said ; and leaves the reader under the im- 
pression that these learned anatomists know all about 
the thing ; and that is what such gentlemen desire, and 
nothing more. 

“ There are not over two dozen species of vultures 
in the world ; and yet the French naturalists make al- 
345 


Ubc IFDunters 


most as many genera of them, multiplying high-sound- 
ing names to such an extent, that the mind of the 
student is quite bewildered with what would otherwise 
prove a most simple study. 

“ All the vultures are so similar in their physiognomy 
and habits that they might be treated as one genus. 
Indeed, it would not lead to great confusion in ornitho- 
logical science, if they were generically classed with 
the eagles — as both kinds have many points of simili- 
tude. The vultures often kill their prey as eagles do ; 
and it is certain that they do riot prefer it in a putrid 
state. The eagles do not always kill their prey, and 
many of them eat carrion. Some of the vultures — such 
as the lammergeyer — have almost all the habits of the 
eagle. The lammergeyer always kills what he eats, 
unless when pressed by hunger ; and there is a singular 
fact in relation to the food of this bird, — he prefers 
certain parts of the bones of animals to their flesh ! ” 

It is somewhat strange that the boy hunter, Lucien, 
should have known this “ fact,” as I believe it is not in 
possession of the naturalists. I, myself, was made ac- 
quainted with it by one of the ‘ ‘ feeders ’ ’ of the superb 
collection in Regent’s Park — who had observed this 
propensity for bone-eating in a young African lammer- 
geyer. He had observed also that the bird was always 
healthier, and in better spirits, on the days when he 
was indulged in his favourite osseous diet. These men 
usually know more of natural history than the cata- 
34 ^ 


/iDore trail? about tbe IDulturea 


logue makers and teeth measurers of the museum and 
the closet. 

“Perhaps,” continued I^ucien, “one of the most 
essential points of difference between the vulture and 
eagle lies in the claws. The claws of the vultures are 
less developed, and their limbs want the muscular 
power that those of eagles possess. Hence the former 
are less able to kill a living animal, or tear the carcass 
of a dead one. They are unable, also, to raise a large 
prey in their claws ; and the stories of vultures carrying 
off deer, and full-grown sheep, are mere fables. Even 
the condor — the largest of the species known — cannot 
lift into the air a weight of more than ten pounds. A 
deer of that weight would be rather a small one, I 
fancy. Most of the wonderful stories about the condor 
were propagated by the discoverers and conquerors of 
Spanish America ; who, if they were great conquerors, 
were also the greatest braggarts the world ever saw. 
The books they have left behind them fully prove my 
assertion ; and I believe that their accounts of the 
Mexican and Peruvian nations, whom they subdued, 
are not a whit less exaggerated than their stories about 
the condor. Three centuries could not have so com- 
pletely swept away the vestiges of such a civilisation 
as they describe — leaving scarcely a trace of it to attest 
the truth of their assertions. It is true, that in these 
countries are to be found monuments of a high state 
of civilisation but these were in ruins long previous 


3-17 


Ube 1bunter0 


to the discovery of the Spaniards ; and the feeble races 
who submitted so easily to the latter, knew no more 
about the builders of these monuments than we do. 
The same vestiges of a civilised people are found in the 
deserts of North America ; and yet the Spanish writers 
can tell nothing of them, farther than that they existed 
at the period of the discovery just as they are now.” 

‘ ‘ How many kinds of vultures are there in America ? ’ ’ 
inquired Francois, whose mind ran more upon the pres- 
ent than the past ; and who, as we have already hinted, 
was a great boy for birds. 

” There are five species well known,” replied lyucien ; 
‘ ‘ and these are so different from each other that there 
is no difficulty in distinguishing them. These species 
form two genera — Sarcorainphus and Cathartes, The 
Sarcoramphs have a fleshy protuberance over the beak 
— hence the generic name, which is a compound of two 
Greek words, signifying fleshy and heak or bill. The 
Cathartes, or ‘ purging vultures,’ derive their name from 
a singular habit — that of throwing up their food again, 
not only when feeding their young, but also when pro- 
viding for one another during the period of incubation. 

‘‘The condor is a true Sarcoramph — in fact, one of 
the most marked features of this bird is the fleshy car- 
tilaginous crest that .surmounts his head and part of 
his beak. This, however, is only found upon the 
males, as the female birds are not crested in a similar 
manner. The condor, when in full plumage, might be 
348 


/IDore Half? about tbe IDultures 


called a black-and-white bird. His body underneath, 
his tail, shoulders, and the butts as well as the outer 
margins of his wings, are all of a dark, nearly black, 
colour ; but his wings, when closed, give him a large 
space of greyish white from the back to the tail. The 
downy ruff around the breast and neck is milk white, 
and the naked wrinkled skin of the neck and head is 
of a blackish red or claret colour, while the legs are 
ashy blue. It is only when full-grown — nearly three 
years old — that the condor obtains these colours ; and 
up to that time he is without the white collar around 
his neck. The young birds, for many months after 
they are hatched, have no feathers, but a soft thick 
down, like young goslings or cygnets ; and even at 
two years of age their colour is not black-and-white, 
but a dirty, brownish black. 

“The full-grown condor usually measures about 
eight feet from tip to tip of his wings ; but there 
can be no question that specimens exist, and have 
been seen by truthful travellers, that measured four- 
teen feet and some inches ! 

‘ ‘ The condor, like other vultures, feeds principally 
upon carrion ; but when pressed with hunger, he 
will kill sheep, lambs, vicunas, young lamas, deer, 
and other animals. The larger kinds he can master, 
by attacking their eyes with his powerful beak — 
which is his principal weapon. That he can kill 
boys of sixteen years old, as Garcilaso de la Vega 
349 


Ube Bop HDunters 


asserts, is, like many other statements of that cele- 
brated author, simply untrue ; but that he frequently 
attacks, and, according to the Indians, sometimes 
puts to death little children, is probable enough. 
If he can kill full-grown sheep or vicunas, there is 
nothing remarkable about his doing the same for a 
child five or six years of age ; and, indeed, it is cer- 
tain that such instances have occurred. 

“Almost any eagles can do as much, and would, 
provided they were hungry, and children were left 
exposed in the neighbourhood of their haunts. The 
condor, however, is one of the most ravenous of his 
species. One in a state of captivity has been known 
to eat eighteen pounds of flesh in a single day ! But 
that this bird can raise into the air with his claws, 
and carry off large animals, such as deer and sheep, 
as asserted by Acosta, Desmarchais, and other French 
and Spanish writers, is altogether fabulous. 

“The condor, unlike the vultures of most coun- 
tries, is not under the protection of the law. His 
destructive habits among the lambs, and young lamas 
and alpacas, render him an object to be persecuted 
rather than protected. He is, therefore, either killed 
or captured, whenever an opportunity offers. There 
can be but little use made either of his flesh or his 
feathers ; but as he is an object of curiosity, he is 
often kept as a pet about the houses of the Chilians 
and Peruvians. Five ones are frequently to be seen 
350 


/IDore about tbe IDultures 


in the markets of Valparaiso, and other South Ameri- 
can cities. 

“ The natives who hunt the condor have various 
ways of capturing him. Sometimes they lie in wait 
near a carcass, and shoot the bird when it alights ; 
but it is very difficult to kill them in this way, on 
account of their strong thick feathers, as well as the 
tenacity of life which they possess : it can only be 
done when the shot takes effect in a vital part. This 
method, therefore, is not much practised. A second 
plan is, to wait until the condor has gorged himself 
to repletion, when, like most other vultures, he is 
unable to fly for some time after. The hunters then 
gallop up, and lasso him from their horses ; or impede 
his flight by flinging the ‘ bolas ’ around his legs. 
The ‘ bolas ’ are thongs of leather, with leaden balls 
at each end ; and these, when adroitly thrown, twine 
themselves round the shanks of the condor, and pre- 
vent his escape. A third mode is still a surer one. 
The hunters build a large pen, in which they place 
a quantity of carrion. The palisades that enclose this 
pen are made so high, that, when the bird has gorged 
himself, he is unable either to rise into the air or get 
out of the enclosure in any way ; and he is then over- 
taken and captured, or beaten to death with clubs. 

“The Indians kill the condor by .stones, projected 
from slings to a great distance — a species of weapon 
which these people use with much dexterity. 

351 


Ube Ibunters 


‘ ‘ Condors are taken alive in traps and snares ; but 
there is an excellent and somewhat curious method 
of capturing them alive, sometimes employed by the 
Indians of the Sierras. It is this : The hunter pro- 
vides himself with the skin of some animal, such as 
an ox or horse, freshly taken off, and with a piece of 
the flesh adhering to it. With this he proceeds to 
some open place, where the condors, wheeling high 
in the air above, may readily see him. Having 
chosen a spot, he crouches down upon the ground, 
and draws the skin over him, with the fleshy side 
turned upward. In this situation he remains ; but 
not long, until some one of the condors, with his 
far-piercing glance, espies the ensanguined object, and 
comes swooping downward. The bird, having no 
suspicion, hops boldly upon the hide ; and commences 
tearing at the piece of flesh. The hunter, underneath, 
now cautiously feels for one of its legs ; and having 
assured himself of this, grasps it firmly, folding the 
foot of the bird in the soft loose flaps of the hide. 
Having already provided himself with a long rope, 
he adroitly nooses it around the ankle ; and, taking 
the other end in his hand, he now appears from under 
the skin, and shows himself to his astonished captive. 
Of course, during the operation of ‘ tethering,’ the 
condor flaps and struggles with all his might ; and 
were it not for the hide which protects the hunter, 
the latter would be very apt to come off with the loss 
352 


/iDore tTalh about the Cultures 


of an eye, or be otherwise dreadfully torn by the power- 
ful beak of the bird. When the hunter has fairly 
secured his prize, he passes a leathern thong through 
its nostrils, and knotting it firmly, leads the condor 
off in triumph. In this same manner the bird is kept 
chained so long as he is wanted. With the string 
through his nostrils, and fastened by the other end 
to a picket-pin in the ground, the captive can walk 
about freely within the area of a circle. Sometimes 
forgetting that he is chained, he attempts to fly off; 
but, on reaching the end of his string, the sudden 
jerk brings him to the ground again ; and he invari- 
ably falls upon his head ! ’ ’ 

“But how is it,” inquired Frangois, “since the 
condors are hunted in this w^ay, and so easily cap- 
tured, that they are not long since exterminated? 
They are so large, that any one can see them at a 
great distance ; and they can be easily approached, 
I believe ; yet there are still great flocks of them — 
are there not ? ’ ’ 

“You are quite right,” answered Lucien ; “they 
are still numerous, both in the Andes of Chili and 
Peru. I think I can explain this. It is because they 
have a safe place, not only to breed but to retire to, 
whenever they feel inclined. Numerous peaks of the 
Andes, where these birds dwell, shoot up far above the 
line of perpetual snow. Away up on these summits 
the condor breeds, among naked rocks where there is 
353 


23 


Xlbe Ibunters 


no vegetation. No one ever thinks of ascending them ; 
and, indeed, many of these summits are inaccessible 
to the human foot. Not even animals of any species 
are found there, nor birds — except the condor himself. 
He is the sole lord of that region. Therefore, unlike 
most other creatures, these birds have a. retreat where 
no enemy can come near them, and where they may 
bring forth their young, and rear them in perfect se- 
curity. Still more, they can go to rest at night with- 
out fear of being disturbed, unless by the crash of the 
falling avalanche, or the roar of the loud thunder that 
often reverberates through these Alpine regions. But 
the condor is not in the least afraid of these noises ; 
and he heeds them not, but sleeps securely, even while 
the red lightning is playing around his eyrie. 

“ Now, it is very evident that birds, or any other 
wild animals, possessing a secure place, both to bring 
forth their young or escape to in time of danger, will 
not easily be extirpated. It is because their places of 
breeding and retreat are accessible — not only to man 
but to hosts of other enemies — that such creatures as 
eagles and the like are so scarce. Not so with the con- 
dor. His race can never become extinct so long as the 
Andes exist ; and that is likely to be for a good long 
period, I fancy.” 

“What sort of nests do they build?” inquired 
Francois. 

“They do not build nests,” replied Lucien, “they 
354 


/^^ore Ual?? about tbe lt)ultures 


choose a cavity in the rocks, or in the soil around 
them, where they lay two large white oval eggs, and 
hatch them just as other vultures do. Strange to say, 
very little is known of their mode of life in their 
elevated haunts ; but this is because the natives of the 
Sierras rarely venture up to the high regions where the 
condors dwell. All they know of them is what they 
see, when these great birds descend upon the plateaux, 
or inhabited mountain- valleys, in search of food — which 
they do only in the mornings and evenings. During 
mid-day the condor usually perches upon some high 
rock, and there goes to sleep. When pressed by hunger, 
they sometimes extend their range down to the hot 
coast lands of the Pacific Ocean ; but they are evi- 
dently birds that can bear cold much better than heat. 

“The King vulture continued Tucien, “is the 
next species that claims our attention. He is also a 
sarcoramph {Sarcoramphus papal) ^ and the only one 
of that genus beside the condor. He is unlike the con- 
dor in many respects. He is not much of a mountain 
bird, but prefers the low savannas and open plains. He 
prefers heat to cold, and he is rarely met with outside 
the tropics, although he makes occasional visits to the 
peninsula of Florida and the northern plains of Mexico ; 
but in these places he is only a rare and migratory bird. 
He feeds principally upon carrion, and dead fish that 
have been left by the drying up of ponds and lakes ; 
but he will also kill and eat serpents, lizards, and small 
355 


Ubc 1[3unters 


mammiferous animals. Baftram states that in Florida 
he only appears after the savannas have been on fire, 
when he is seen to pass over the ground amidst the 
black ashes, hunting for and devouring the snakes and 
lizards that have been killed by the fire. Bartram, 
therefore, infers that his food must consist altogether 
of roasted reptiles ; but as it would be sometimes difii- 
cult for him to procure a supply of these ready-cooked, 
I think we may safely conclude that he does not object 
to eating them raw.. The fanciful ideas of these old 
naturalists are sometimes very amusing from their very 
absurdity. 

‘ ‘ The king vultures live in pairs as eagles do — 
though they are often seen in flocks, when a carcass 
or some other object has brought them together. 

“This bird has been called the ‘painted’ vulture 
on account of the brilliant colours upon his head and 
neck, which do, in fact, present the appearance of the 
most vivid painting. He derives his name of ‘ king 
vulture, ’ not from the possession of any noble qualities, 
but from the manner in which he tyrannises over the 
common vultures {aura and atratus), keeping them from 
their food until he has gorged himself with the choicest 
morsels. In this sense the name is most appropriate ; 
as such conduct presents a striking analogy to that of 
most human kings, towards the common people. 

“ Next to the condor in size,’’ continued the natural- 
ist, “ and, perhaps, quite equal to him, is the great 
356 


^ore Ualft about tbe tDultures 


California vulture — the “condor of the north.” He 
is classed among the purging vultures {Cathartes Cali- 
fornianus). This bird may be called black, as he is 
nearly of that hue all over the body ; although some 
of the secondary wing feathers are white at the tips, 
and the coverts are brown. Black, however, is the 
prevailing colour of the bird. His naked head and 
neck is reddish ; but he wants the crest or comb, which 
the condors and king vultures have. On the posterior 
part of his neck, long lance-shaped feathers form a sort 
of ruff or collar, as in other birds of this kind. 

“ The California vulture derives his name from the 
country which he inhabits — the great chain of the Cali- 
fornia mountains — the Sierra Nevada — which extends 
almost without interruption through twenty degrees of 
latitude. That he sometimes visits the Rocky Moun- 
tains, and their kindred the Cordilleras of the Sierra 
Madre in Mexico, there can be little doubt. A large 
bird occasionally seen among these mountains, and pro- 
nounced to be the condor, is far more likely to have 
been the California vulture. As far as size is con- 
cerned, this mistake might easily be made, for the lat- 
ter bird is nearly, if not quite, as large as the former. 
A specimen of the California vulture has been measured, 
which proved to be four feet eight inches in length, and 
nine feet eight inches between the tips of the wings ! 
Now, this is actually larger than the average size of 
the condors ; and it is not improbable, therefore, that 


357 


trbe :Bo^ IfDunter^ 


individuals of the Californian species may yet be found 
quite equal to the largest of the South American birds. 

The Californian vulture has been seen as far north 
as the thirty-ninth parallel of latitude. He is common 
in some parts of Oregon, where he makes his nevSt in 
the tops of the tallest trees, constructing it of coarse 
thorny twigs and brambles, somewhat after the man- 
ner of eagles. As many of the great spruce and pine 
trees of Oregon and California are three hundred feet 
in height, and twenty feet thick at the ba.se, this vul- 
ture is almost as secure among their tops as the condor 
on his mountain summit ; but to render himself doubly 
safe, he always selects such trees as overhang inacces- 
sible cliffs or rapid rivers. The female lays only two 
eggs, which are nearly jet-black, and as large as those 
of a goose ; and the 3^oung, like those of the condor, 
are for many weeks covered with down instead of 
feathers. Like other vultures, the food of this species 
is carrion or dead fish ; but he will follow after wounded 
deer and other animals, and commence devouring them 
as soon as they have dropped ; and a score of these 
birds will devour the carcass of a deer, or even of a 
horse or mule, in about one hour’s time, leaving noth- 
ing but a w^ell-cleaned skeleton ! While eating, they 
are strong enough and bold enough to keep at a dis- 
tance wolves, dogs, and all such animals as may at- 
tempt to share with them. 

“ Perhaps no bird of the vulture species is so shy 
358 


/IDore ITalk about tbe IDultures 


and wary as this one. Except when he is gorged with 
eating, he will never allow the hunter to approach 
within shot ; and, even then, his thick heavy plumage 
renders him most difficult to be killed. His wings are 
full and long, and his flight is most graceful and easy, 
not unlike that of his congener the turkey-buzzard. 

“ I have said,” continued Eucien, “ that naturalists 
make out five species of American vultures. The re- 
maining two, the turkey-buzzard and black vulture, 
or, as he is sometimes called, the ‘carrion-crow,’ we 
have already had before us ; but, I believe, there are 
more than five species on the continent of America. 
There is a bird in Guayana called the ‘ gavilucho, ’ 
which I believe to be a vulture difiering from all these ; 
and, moreover, I do not think that the ‘ red-headed 
gallinazo ’ of South America is the same as the turkey- 
buzzard of the north. He is, more probably, a distinct 
species of Cathartes ; for, although he resembles the 
turkey-buzzard in shape and size his plumage appears 
to me of a purer black, and the skin of his head, neck, 
and legs of a much more vivid red — having an appear- 
ance as if these parts had been painted. I think 
naturalists will yet discover, that besides the great 
Californian vulture, there are three if not four species 
of the smaller Cathartes. 

So much for the vultures of America. 


359 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 


SUPPING UPON A SKKUKTON. 

UR young travellers had now arrived upon the 



great buffalo path. Without halting, they 


turned their horses to the right, and followed the trail. 
It led directly towards the north, and they had no 
difficulty in following it, as the prairie, for a tract of 
miles in width, was cut up by the hoofs of the animals, 
and, in some parts, where the ground was softer and 
more loamy, the surface presented the appearance of 
having been turned up by the plough. At other places 
the hard green turf had resisted the hoof, but even 
there the grass was so beaten down, that the trail was 
a perfectly plain one. Without troubling themselves 
about the direction, therefore, the little party rode 
briskly forward, full of hope that they would soon 
overtake the buffaloes. But their hopes were not so 
soon to be realised. These animals had gone upon 
their annual migration to the north ; and as they were 
keeping almost continually upon the run — scarcely 
stopping to rest or pasture themselves — it would be no 
easy matter to come up with them. At night our 


360 


Suppino upon a Sf^eleton 


travellers were obliged to diverge from the trail, in 
order to get grass for their horses ; for, upon a belt of 
at least four miles in width, which the buffaloes had 
passed over, not a blade of grass was left standing. 

But another want now began to be felt by the party 
— one that filled them with serious apprehensions. 
At the end of the second day their stock of dried bear’s- 
meat gave out — not an ounce of it was left — and they 
lay down upon the prairie supperless and hungry. 
What rendered the prospect still more disheartening, 
they were passing through a region entirely destitute 
of game — where no animal is ever seen except the buf- 
faloes themselves, an occasional antelope, or the ever- 
present prairie wolf. It w^as a region essentially desert 
in its character ; although the dry plains were covered 
with a sward of the famous ‘ ‘ buffalo grass ’ ’ {Sesleria 
dactyloides) ^ which forms the favourite pasture of these 
wild cattle. As for the antelopes, they love these desert 
solitudes ; as their free open range affords them an 
opportunity, from their superior fleetness, of escaping 
from every enemy. But in these parts they are more 
than usually shy ; and although several of them were 
seen on the way, our hunters vainly endeavoured to 
approach wnthin shooting distance of them. Wolves 
they could have .shot ; but they were not as yet pre- 
pared to satisfy their hunger upon the flesh of these 
filthy, fox-like creatures. That large troops of wolves 
had gone forward, hanging after the great herd, was 
361 


Ube 35Sop Ibunters 


evident. Every now and then our hunters saw proof 
of this, in the clean-picked skeletons of buffaloes that 
lay along the path. These they knew were such as 
had got" disabled and separated from the drove ; for 
numerous accidents of this kind — owing to the bulls 
goring one another, or being enfeebled by age and 
disease — take place during the migration of the vast 
herds. Were it not so, the wolves would never think 
of following them as they do ; for a buffalo in good 
health can scatter a whole pack of these cowardly, 
skulking jackals. But the average accidents which 
occur when such numbers of buffaloes are together — 
the prospect of old ones, weak and weary, being 
separated from their companions — of numbers getting 
mired upon the banks of some muddy river, or drowned 
in crossing it — of cows heavy with calf falling behind, 
or with calves already on the hoof, loitering for, the 
purpose of suckling them — the prospect of these 
chances, combined with the still more enticing hope 
that the buffaloes will be attacked by a party of Indian 
hunters, often carries a pack of wolves for hundreds 
of miles across the prairie on the heels of a great herd. 
In fact, some of these wolves, both of the white and 
prairie species, seem to have no fixed place of abode ; 
but hang upon the skirts of the buffalo ‘ ‘ gangs ’ ’ 
throughout all their extended migrations. 

I have said that upon the second night after leaving 
the butte, our travellers went to sleep supperless. On 
362 


Supping upoti a Skeleton 


the third day they began to feel the cravings of hun- 
ger in good earnest. Neither beast nor bird appeared 
in sight upon the wild desert plains that stretched 
inimitably around them. About noon, as they were 
riding through a thicket of the wild sage {^Artemisia 
iridentatd) , a brace of those singular birds, sage-cocks 
or prairie grouse ( Tetrao urophasianus), the largest of 
all the grouse family, whirred up before the heads of 
their horses. Francois, with his ever- ready gun, fired 
at them ; but they were too distant for the shot ; and 
the next moment both disappeared over the swells of 
the prairie. The sight only tantalised the unsuccess- 
ful hunters, and added to the hungry craving of appe- 
tites already sharp almost beyond endurance. They 
felt that there was no chance of getting anything to 
eat before they should come up with the buffaloes. 
That was their only hope ; and they spurred their 
horses afresh, and rode on as fast as the animals could 
travel. 

Towards night their hunger had increased to a pain- 
ful degree ; and the eyes of all wandered occasionally 
upon Jeanette and the dog Marengo. They began to 
contemplate the necessity of sacrificing one or other of 
these animals. It would be a sad alternative — as both 
the mule and the dog were looked upon more in the 
light of companions than slaves. Both had done good 
service during the expedition. But for Marengo, 
Francois might never have been found ; and Jeanette, 


tTbe Ibunter^ 


in addition to having satisfactorily accomplished the 
duty assigned to her, had saved them from an encoun- 
ter with one of the cougars. But all these services 
must now be forgotten, when starvation was the alter- 
native ; and our adventurers began to talk seriously 
about which of these two faithful servants should be 
made the first victim. Neither was fat. Jeanette had 
never been so in all her life — at least so long as her 
present owners had been acquainted with her — and 
Marengo had grown gaunt and bony upon this length- 
ened expedition. Jeanette could not be otherwise 
than tough, and Marengo looked anything but tender. 
So far as that was concerned, it might be a toss-up 
which of them was first “ put to the knife.” 

But other considerations had their weight with the 
boys. Basil disliked parting with his hound, that for 
many years had been a great favourite, and the dog was 
endeared to all from late circumstances. His conduct 
at the time when Francois was lost — his usefulness as 
a sentinel at many a lonely camp-fire — and his valuable 
services rendered upon other occasions, had fixed him 
firmly in the affections of his young masters ; and they 
would have endured hunger to the utmost extremity 
rather than sacrifice him. Jeanette, on the other hand, 
was but a mule — a selfish, wicked, kicking mule. This 
was true ; but to them she had been a useful animal, 
and would not have kicked any one of them, although 
she would have kicked- all the world besides. Still 
3^>4 


Supping upon a Si^eleton 


the feeling with which Jeanette was regarded was 
more a feeling of gratitude than of love. It was far 
different from the sentiment held towards Marengo. 

With these considerations passing through the minds 
of our hungry hunters, it is easy to guess the result of 
their deliberations. The sentence was at length pro- 
nounced — a unanimous on^— Jeanette must die ! 

Poor old Jeanette ! She little knew what they were 
talking about. She little thought that her days were 
about being numbered — that the time was nigh when 
she should carry a pack no more. She little expected 
that she was about to kick up her heels upon the 
prairie for the last time — that in a few hours her life- 
blood would be let forth — and her old ribs be roasting 
and sputtering over a camp-fire ! 

Yes, it was decreed that Jeanette should die ! but 
when and where this terrible tragedy was to take place, 
was not yet determined upon. At their first halting- 
place, of course ; but where was that to be ? for, hav- 
ing resolved upon the death of Jeanette, they travelled 
on for miles without arriving at any place where it 
would be possible to halt for the night ! No water 
appeared, and without water they could not with safety 
encamp. Early in the afternoon they had entered 
upon a strange tract, over which the road of the buf- 
faloes led them. It was a part of the prairie — a series 
of low hills composed of pure gypsum. These ex- 
tended around them, as far as our travellers could see, 
365 


Ube Ibunters 


presenting on all sides a picture of alabaster whiteness. 
Neither plant, nor tree, nor any sign of vegetable life 
relieved the monotonous uniformity of the landscape. 
Turn to what side they might, their eyes were met by 
the lime-like surface of hill and dale, dazzling the 
sight with its milky whiteness. The sun, reflected 
upward, pierced their bodies, and parched them with 
thirst. They breathed a hot atmosphere filled with 
gypsum dust, that by the trampling of the buffalo herd 
had been reduced to an impalpable powder, and floated 
about suspended in the air. This added to the agony 
of their thirst ; and it was difiicult for them to tell 
whether they suffered most from the want of food, or 
the want of water ! 

How far might this singular tract extend? They 
could form no conjecture as to the distance. Lucien 
had heard that such formations sometimes stretched 
for many miles. If so, they might never be able to 
cross it — thirsty and exhausted as both they and the 
animals were — for, eager to come up with the buffalo, 
they had rested but very little during the previous 
days. They began to labour under serious apprehen- 
sions. The appetite of thirst became stronger than that 
of hunger — its cravings more difficult to be endured. 

Guided by the buffalo tracks, they rode gloomily on, 
in the midst of a white cloud that enveloped them 
throughout all that fearful journey. They had no dif- 
ficulty in following the trail. The heavy dust showed 
366 


Supping upon a Sf^eleton 


where the drove had passed ; and every here and there 
great circular hollows showed where the buffaloes had 
“wallowed.” The hope that the.se animals, guided 
by their usual instincts, had gone in the direction of 
water, to some degree sustained our travellers in their 
onward struggle. 

The shades of evening were closing over the earth, 
and the alabaster hills were assuming an ashy blue ^ 
colour, when the little cavalcade emerged from the 
dusty ravines of gypsum, and once more trod the green 
prairie. The country before them was still rolling, 
but they kept on along the well marked trail — their 
animals stepping more freely, as if inspired with new 
hope at the change which had taken place upon the 
surface. There was something in the appearance of 
the landscape ahead that led to the belief that water 
was not far distant ; and, sure enough, it was not ; for, 
on mounting the crest of a prairie swell, over which 
ran the buffalo trail, a small rivulet was espied in the 
glen below. At the sight, Jeanette, as well as the 
horses, pricked up their ears ; and, making an effort 
to trot, were soon at the bottom of the hill, and up to 
their knees in the water. 

It was fortunate for them that it proved a fresh-water 
stream. Had it been a salt one — and such are very 
common in the neighbourhood of these gypsum forma- 
tions — they could never have gone farther. They 
would all have perished upon its banks. 

367 


tTbe :Bop IFDunters 


But it was fresh water — cool and fresh — and our 
travellers first drank of it, and then bathed themselves 
in its flood, until they had washed their bodies free from 
the annoying gypsum dust. After this they set about 
making some arrangements for their night bivouac. 

The copious draughts of water, which all of them 
had taken, in some measure relieved them from the 
% painful sensations of hunger they had experienced ; 
and they began to consider whether they might not be 
able to give Jeanette a respite — at least until the morn- 
ing. While deliberating upon this, they noticed that 
Marengo had strayed away from them. They looked 
around, wondering what had become of him, or where 
he could have gone. They espied the hound at some 
distance up the stream, apparently engaged with some 
object upon the bank. They all ran towards him. 
On arriving near the spot, they perceived that it was 
the skeleton of a large buffalo with which the dog was 
engaged. The poor brute, hungry as he was, could do 
but little else than lick it ; for the wolves had not left 
as much meat upon it as would have filled the smallest 
of his teeth ! Kven the pieces of torn skin that lay 
around had been chewed dry by these ravenous ani- 
mals ; and the bones appeared as free from flesh as if 
they had been scraped by a knife. Had an anatomist 
been ordered to prepare the skeleton for a museum, he 
could not have cleaned it more effectually. * 

It was not very cheering to contemplate this useless 
368 


Supptno upon a Skeleton 


skeleton ; and the boys were about returning to their 
camping-place, when the idea occurred to lyucien that 
the bones might, at least, yield a soup. He, of course, 
communicated this idea to the others, and it was at 
once agreed that they should boil them and try. It 
was quite a happy thought. No doubt the bones, 
which were fresh and not yet dry, would make an ex- 
cellent soup ; and all three at once set about preparing 
to cook it. Frangois gathered sage-bushes to kindle a 
fire with, while Basil got hold of Fucien’s little hatchet, 
and set to work to separate the ribs and joints of the 
skeleton. Fucien, seeing that there were several kinds 
of plants growing on the margin of the rivulet, went 
down to examine them — in hopes that he might find 
the wild onion or the prairie turnip among them, or 
perhaps some other root or vegetable that might help 
to enrich their pottage. 

While all three were engaged in their separate duties, 
a loud exclamation from Basil drew the attention of his 
brothers. It was a shout of joy, followed by a wild 
laugh, like the laugh of a maniac ! 

Frangois and Fucien looked up in affright — thinking 
that something disagreeable had happened— for they 
could not understand why Basil should be laughing so 
loudly at such a time, and under such gloomy circum- 
stances. 

As they looked at him he still continued to laugh, 
waving the hatchet around his head as if in triumph. 

24 3f>9 


Zbc :iSop IfDunters 


“ Come here, brothers ! ” shouted he ; “ come here ! 
Ha ! ha ! ha ! Here ’s a supper for three hungry in- 
dividuals ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! What shallow fellows we 
are, to be sure ! Why, we are as stupid as the donkey 
that preferred eating the hay with the bread and butter 
beside him. lyook here ! and here ! and there ! 
There ’s a supper for you. Ha ! ha ! ha ! ” 

Tucien and Francois had now arrived upon the 
ground ; and seeing Basil point to the great joints of 
the buffalo, and turn them over and over, at once un- 
derstood the cause of his mirth. These joints were full 
of marrow 1 

“ Pounds of it,” continued Basil ; “ the very titbits 
of the buffalo — enough to make suppers for a dozen of 
us ; and yet we were going to sleep supperless, or the 
next thing to it — going to starve in the midst of plenty ! 
And we have been travelling among such treasures for 
three days past ! Why, we deserve to starve for being 
so simple. But come, brother ! help me to carry these 
great joints to the fire — I ’ll show you how to cook a 
supper. ’ ’ 

There are eight marrow-bones in the buffalo, contain- 
ing several pounds of this substance. As Basil had 
heard from the old hunters, it is esteemed the most de- 
licious part of the animal ; and is rarely left behind 
when a buffalo has been killed. The best method of 
preparing it is by simply roasting it in the bone ; al- 
though the Indians and trappers often eat it raw. The 
370 


Supping upon a Sf^eleton 


stomachs of our young hunters were not strong enough 
for this ; and a couple of the shank bones were thrown 
into the fire, and covered over with red cinders. 

In due time the marrow was supposed to be suffi- 
ciently baked ; and the bones having been cracked by 
I^ucien’s hatchet, yielded up their savoury store — 
which all three ate with a great relish. A cup of cool 
water washed it down ; and around the camp-fire of 
the boy hunters thirst and hunger were now contem- 
plated only as things of the past. Jeanette was respited^ 
without one dissentient voice. 

Our adventurers were surrounded once more with 
the cheerful atmosphere of hope. There was still 
enough of marrow in the remaining bones to last them 
for two days at the least ; for this marrow is a most 
nourishing food. Moreover, by following the buffalo 
trail, they would be likely to fall in with other skeletons 
of these animals ; and all apprehensions on the score 
of food now vanished from their minds. Another fact, 
which the skeleton of the buffalo revealed to them, 
added to their joyful anticipations. They had observed 
on first going up to it — that the bones were still fresh ! 
The wolves had not been long gone from it. It could 
not have been a long time killed. All this showed 
that the buffaloes themselves had but very recently 
passed over the ground, and could not be far distant. 
These were cheering thoughts ; and for a while the 
young hunters sat around the sage-fire, revolving them 
371 


Ubc IbunterB 


in their minds, and conversing upon them. Then, 
having offered thanks to that Being who had so many 
times miraculously preserved them, they rolled them- 
selves in their blankets, and, notwithstanding a heavy 
shower of rain that fell, once more found the solace of 
a good night’s sleep. 


372 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 


the; battt:^ of thf butts. 

EXT morning the boy hunters were up and 



stirring at the “ peep of day.” They felt re- 


freshed and cheerful. So did their animals, for the 
grass was good. Jeanette was frisking about on her 
trail rope and endeavouring to reach ‘ ‘ Ee Chat, ’ ’ 
whom she would have kicked and bitten to a certainty, 
but that the lasso- tether restrained her. Jeanette little 
dreamt how near she had been to her last kick. Had 
she known that, it is probable she would have carried 
herself with more sobriety, not knowing but that a 
similar necessity might occur again. But Jeanette 
knew nothing of it ; and, having eaten well and drunk 
plentifully, she was as frisky as a kitten. 

A fire was kindled, and a fresh “marrow-bone” 
steamed and sputtered among the blazing branches of 
the sage. This was soon drawn forth again, cracked, 
its rich contents rifled and eaten. The remaining joints 
were packed upon Jeanette ; the horses were saddled, 
the hunters leaped into their seats, and rode joyfully 
off upon the trail. 


373 


Ubc :Bo^ lF3unter0 


The countty over which they now travelled was 
what is termed a “ rolling prairie ” — that is, a country 
without trees, but nevertheless far from being level. 
The prairie is not always a level plain, as some people 
imagine. On the contrary, it is often of very uneven 
surface, containing high hills and deep valleys. The 
word ‘ ‘ prairie ’ ’ means properly an open level country, 
though it is not necessary that it should be a dead 
horizontal level, to entitle it to the name. It may con- 
tain hills, valleys, and long ridges. It is not necessary 
either that it should be entirely destitute of trees ; for 
there are the “timber prairies,” where trees grow in 
‘ ‘ mottes ’ ’ or groves, sometimes termed islands — from 
their resemblance to wooded islands in the sea. The 
“prairie” is a term used to distinguish those vast 
meadow-like tracts of the earth’s surface from the 
forest, the mountain, and the ocean. The prairies 
themselves are distinguished by specific names, accord- 
ing to what covers their surface. We have seen that 
there are “timber prairies” and “flower prairies.” 
The latter are usually denominated “weed prairies” 
by the rude hunters who roam over them. The vast 
green meadows covered with “ buffalo ” or “grama,” 
or “ mezquite ” grass, are termed “grass prairies.” 
The tracts of salt efflorescence — often fifty miles long 
and nearly as wide — are called “ salt prairies ” ; and a 
somewhat similar kind, where soda covers the surface, 
are named “soda prairies.” There are vast desert 
374 


Ubc Battle of tbe Bulls 


plains where no vegetation appears, save tffe wild sage, 
bushes {Artemisia). These are the “sage prairies,” 
hundreds of miles of which exist in the central parts 
of the North American continent. There are prairies 
of sand, and “rock prairies,” where the “ cut- rock ” 
and pebble deposits cover the arid plains ; and still 
another variety, called the “ hog- wallow prairies,” 
where the surface for miles exhibits a rough appear- 
ance, as if it had been at some remote period turned 
over or ‘ ‘ rooted ’ ’ by the hogs. 

Most of these names have been given by the trap- 
pers — the true pioneers of this wild region. Who 
have an equal right to bestow them ? Scientific men 
may explore it — topographical ofiicers may. travel 
over it in safety with a troop at their heels — they 
may proclaim themselves the discoverers of the passes 
and the plains, the mountains and the rivers, the fauna 
and the flora — on their maps they may give them the 
names, first of themselves, then of their patrons, then 
of their friends, and, lastly, of their favourite dogs 
and horses. They may call stupendous mountains and 
grand rivers by the names of Smith and Jones, of 
Fremont and Stansbury ; but men who think justly, 
and even the rude but wronged trappers themselves, 
will laugh to scorn such scientific coxcombry. 

I honour the names which the trappers have given 
to the features of that far land ; many of which, like 
the Indian nomenclature, are the expressions of nature 
375 


Ubc JBop 1[3untcrs 


itself ; and not a few of them have been baptised by 
the blood of these brave pioneers. 

We have said that our adventurers now travelled 
upon a “ rolling prairie.” The surface exhibited vast 
ridges with hollows between. Did you ever see the 
ocean after a storm ? Do you know what a ‘ ‘ ground- 
swell ” is ? — when the sea is heaving up in great smooth 
ridges without crest or foam, and deep troughs be- 
tween — when the tempest has ceased to howl and the 
winds to blow, yet still so uneven remains the surface 
of the mighty deep, still so dangerous are these smooth 
waves, that ships rock and tumble about, and some- 
times lose their masts, or are flung upon their beam 
ends ! That is what the sailors call a “ swell.” Now, 
if you could imagine one of these billowy seas to be 
suddenly arrested in its motion, and the water trans- 
formed to solid earth, and covered with a green sward, 
you would have something not unlike a “rolling 
prairie.” Some think that, when these prairies w^ere 
formed, some such rolling motion actually existed, 
by means of an earthquake, and that all at once 
the ground ceased its undulations, and stood still ! 
It is an interesting speculation for the learned geol- 
ogist. 

The ridges of the prairie, upon which our adven- 
turers were journeying, extended from east to west, 
and, of course, the valleys trended in the same direc- 
tion. The route was northward ; the path, therefore, 
376 


XTbe :©attle of tbe Bnlls 


which the travellers pursued was a continued succes- 
sion of ups and downs. 

Eagerly looking before them, anxiously scanning 
the valleys or troughs of the prairie as they sur- 
mounted each new swell, they rode onward full of 
hope that they would soon come in sight of the 
buffaloes. But they were not prepared for the sight 
which was so soon to greet their eyes — a sight which 
one would have supposed would have filled them with 
joy, but which, on the contrary, had the effect of 
inspiring them with a feeling akin to terror. 

They had just climbed one of the ridges that gave 
them a view of the valley beyond. It was a small deep 
valley, of nearly a circular form, and covered with a 
green turf. Near one side of it was a spring — the 
waters of which issuing forth ran nearly around the 
circumference of the valley, and then escaped through 
one of the troughs of the prairie. The course of this 
rivulet could be traced by the low trees — cotton-woods 
and willows — that fringed its banks ; so that the cen- 
tral part of the valley presented the appearance of a 
small circular meadow almost surrounded by a grove. 

It was in this meadow that a spectacle was offered 
to the eyes of our adventurers, which caused them to 
rein suddenly up, and sit gazing down upon it with 
singular emotions. The spectacle was that of a num- 
ber of animals engaged in what appeared to be a mixed 
and terrible combat ! There was not over a dozen of 
377 


Ube IlDunters 


them in all, but they were large animals, of fierce 
aspect and furious bearing ; and so desperately were 
they assailing one another, that the green turf around 
them was torn and furrowed by their hoofs. It was in 
the middle of the meadow that this indiscriminate 
contest was carried on — in the open ground — and a 
finer spot for such an exhibition they could hardly 
have chosen, had they wished to accommodate a large 
number of spectators. The valley itself, with the 
ridges that encircled it, was not unlike one of the great 
Spanish amphitheatres, where bull-fights are carried 
on ; while the smooth, level surface of the meadow 
represented the arena. The combatants, however, 
were engaged in no mock encounter to gratify the 
curiosity of an idle crowd ; nor did they apprehend 
that there were spectators present. 

The contest in which they were engaged was a real 
fight ; and their angry roars, their hurried rushing back- 
wards and forwards, and the loud cracking of their skulls 
as they came together, proved them to be in earnest. 

That the animals were buffaloes was apparent at 
first sight. Their great bulk, the lion-like form of 
their bodies, but, above all, their bellowing, that re- 
sembled the ‘ ‘ routing ’ ’ of enraged bulls, convinced 
our young hunters that they could be no other than 
buffaloes — and buffaloes they were — a “ gang” of old 
buffalo bulls engaged in one of their terrible tourna- 
ments. 


378 



THE WHITE BUFFALO 






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Ube JBattle of tbe Bixils 


I have said that our hunters, on first seeing them, 
were influenced by feelings of terror. But why so ? 
What was there in the appearance of a herd of buffa- 
loes to frighten them, since that was the very thing 
they had so long been in search of? Was it the angry 
attitudes of the animals, or their loud roaring ? Noth- 
ing of the sort ? No. That was not what had inspired 
them with fear, or, as I should rather term it, with 
awe. No. The reason was very different indeed. It 
was not because they were buffaloes, or because they 
were engaged in a fierce battle, — it was because they 
were white buffaloes ! 

You will again ask, why this shoiild have been a 
cause of terror. Was a white buffalo not the very 
object of the expedition ? Should the sight of one not 
have produced joy rather than fear f So the sight of 
one would ; but it was the sight of ^^7 many — the mys- 
terious spectacle of nearly a dozen of these animals 
together — a thing unparalleled, unheard of — it was this 
that inspired our adventurers with awe. 

It was some time before any of the three could find 
words to express their astonishment. They sat in 
silence, gazing down into the valley. They could 
hardly believe the evidence of their eyes. With the 
palms of their hands they shaded them from the sun, 
and gazed still a longer while. They saw, at length, 
there could be no deception. Buffaloes the animals 
were, and white ones too ! 


379 


Ube Bop IF^unter^ 


They were not all of an uniform white, though most 
of them were. A few were darker about the heads and 
legs, with broad white flakes upon their sides, giving 
them a mottled appearance. The general colour, how- 
ever, was whitish ; and, strange to say, there was not 
a black or brown one in the herd ! — not one of the 
well-known colour that buffaloes usually are ! It was 
this that rendered them such a mysterious band in the 
eyes of our adventurers. 

The latter, however, soon got over their surprise. 
There could be no doubt that they had fallen in with 
a herd of white buffaloes. Perhaps, thought they, 
there is, after all, nothing so strange in such a number 
of them being together. Perhaps the individuals of 
that colour, so rarely met with, usually associate to- 
gether in this way, and keep apart from the black 
ones. What better fortune could have happened them 
then ? If they could only succeed in killing one of 
these creatures, it would be all that they could wish 
for, and all they wanted. The object of their expe- 
dition would then be accomplished ; and nothing 
would remain but to turn their horses’ heads, and take 
the shortest route homeward. With these ideas pass- 
ing through their minds, they at once set about consid- 
ering how they might kill or capture one or more of 
the herd. 

They were not slow to decide upon a plan. The 
buffaloes, still continuing their angry conflict, had not 
3S0 


Zbc Battle of tbe Bulls 


noticed them as yet, nor were they likely to do so. 
The hunters resolved, therefore, that two of them 
should remain on horseback — so as to take the animals 
upon the “run” — while the third was to endeavour 
to “approach” them on foot, and get a sure shot 
before they should start off, taking his chance of join- 
ing in the chase afterwards. The latter duty was 
assigned to Basil ; who, after dismounting from his 
horse, and looking to his trusty rifle, commenced creep- 
ing down into the valley. Tucien and Francois — still 
in their saddles — remained upon the ridge. 

Basil reached the grove of willows without being 
observed ; and, stealing silently through, found him- 
self within less than fifty paces of several of the herd. 
They were still rushing to and fro, raising the dust in 
clouds, roaring furiously, parting from each other, and 
then meeting head to head with such force that each 
time their skulls cracked as though both had been 
broken by the terrible concussion. The hunter waited 
until one of the largest, and apparently the whitest of 
them, came very near ; and then, taking aim behind 
the fore-shoulder, fired. The huge animal was seen 
to tumble over ; while the others, hearing the shot, or 
scenting the presence of an enemy, immediately left 
off their contest ; and, breaking through the willows, 
scrambled up the ridge toward the open prairie. 

Without waiting to look after the one that he had 
fired at, Basil ran toward his horse — which, at his call, 
381 


Ubc 1F3unters 


was already galloping to meet him. Francois and 
Fucien were now in pursuit of the flying herd ; and 
Basil, hastily mounting, followed after. In a few min- 
utes the three were side by side with the buffaloes ; 
and then could be heard the cracking of guns and 
pistols until the weapons of all were empty ; but, al- 
though not a shot had missed hitting the animals, the 
latter continued to gallop on, as though none of them 
had been hurt ! Before the hunters could reload, they 
had the mortification to see the whole band far off upon 
the prairie, and running as briskly as ever ! 

Seeing that there would be no chance to come up 
with them again, they all turned their horses, and 
commenced riding back to make sure of the one which 
Basil had knocked over by his first shot. He was still 
in the valley they knew, and as they had all seen him 
lying prostrate, they felt certain they had secured one 
at least, and that was all they wanted. 

On reaching the ridge that overlooked the y alley, 
what was their surprise to see the buffalo once more 
upon his feet, and surrounded by a score of snapping, 
snarling wolves ! These were rushing upon him from 
all sides at once ; while the wounded bull was turning 
briskly about, and endeavouring to keep them at bay 
with his horns. Some of the wolves were seen stretched 
out on the ground — to all appearance dead — while their 
companions kept up the attack with unrelenting fury. 
The eyes of the buffalo flashed fire, as, wheeling round 
382 


Ubc Battle of the Bulls 


and round, he endeavoured to keep his assailants in 
front of him. 

It was evident, however, that the wolves were gain- 
ing upon him ; and, had they been left to themselves, 
would soon have brought him down. Our hunters at 
first thought of allowing them to accomplish this feat ; 
when all at once it occurred to them that, if they did 
so, the skin might be spoiled ! The wolves with their 
fierce teeth would te^ar it to pieces. This thought 
decided them upon a different plan ; and all three gal- 
loped down the ridge and out into the meadow — sur- 
rounding the buffalo as they came up. The wolves 
scattered in every direction ; and the great bull, now 
perceiving his new enemies, commenced rushing from 
one to the other, endeavouring to carry their horses 
upon his horns. It was with great difficulty that they 
could keep out of his reach ; but at length another 
well-directed shot from Basil’s rifle entered the heart 
of the animal ; and, after balancing himself upon his 
spread limbs, and rocking awhile from side to side, the 
huge creature fell forward upon his knees and lay mo- 
tionless, with a stream of blood pouring from his lips. 
In a few moments he was dead ! 

Having made sure of this, our hunters flung them- 
selves from their horses, drew their skinning-knives, 
and made up to the noble quarry. You may fancy 
their astonishment as well as chagrin, when, upon 
getting close to the animal, they discovered that what 
383 


Ubc ibunters 


they had taken for a white buffalo was no white buf- 
falo after all, but a black one painted white ! Neither 
more nor less. The thing was too plain. The lime- 
like coating which covered the huge animal all over 
was now apparent ; and as they passed their hands 
through the long hair, a white substance resembling 
pulverised chalk came off upon their fingers ! 

What could have caused the strange phenomenon, 
they asked one another. But^ the explanation was 
soon found. They remembered the gypsum hills over 
which they had ridden on the preceding day. They 
remembered, too, that it had rained in the night. The 
buffaloes had been among these hills ; and, according 
to their usual habit, had rolled and wallowed about in 
the wetted dust-heaps. The white, alabaster-like mud 
had adhered to their skins — thus giving them the 
colour which had so much deceived and mystified our 
hunters ! 

“ Well,” exclaimed Basil, giving a kick to the body 
of the dead bull, “ even black buffalo is not so bad after 
all. At the worst we shall have fresh meat for dinner ; 
and with that let us console ourselves for the disap- 
pointment.” 

So saying, Basil made signs to his brothers to as- 
sist ; and all three set about preparing to skin the 
animal. 


384 


CHAPTER XXXV. 


THK MYSTE^RIOUS WAI^RIJT. 

HAT day our hunters dined, for the first time, 



on fresh buffalo beef. After dinner they were 
not idle, but spent the remainder of the evening in 
drying a portion of the meat over a fire. They had 
resolved to encamp on the spot for the night, and fol- 
low up the trail in the morning. They therefore busied 
themselves, until a late hour, in preparing as much 
broiled buffalo meat as would last them for several 


days. 


It was near midnight before they thought of retiring 
to rest. As they had done upon like occasions before, 
it was agreed that one should keep watch — so as to 
keep wolves from the meat — while the other two 
slept. 

Their camp was in the open ground, near the spot 
where the buffalo had been skinned. At a little dis- 
tance off their animals were browsing upon the grass. 
The wolves were in great force — both prairie wolves, 
and those of the large grey species. The scent of 
the broiling meat had attracted them from afar ; and 
35 385 


Ube Bop IFDanters 


throughout the night they kept up a continuous howl- 
ing, trotting all over the meadow around the camp. 

Frangois kept the first watch, and lyUcien the sec- 
ond ; Basil’s turn came next, and it was to extend till 
daybreak, when all were to be aroused — so that they 
might pack up at a very early hour, and continue the 
journey. They did not wish to lose a moment more 
than was necessary — as they knew that every hour the 
migrating herd would be gaining upon them, and thus 
prolong the pursuit. 

Basil’s watch was a long one ; and, having sat up 
so late, he felt sleepy. He was, therefore, in no very 
friendly humour with the wolves — upon whose account 
he was thus compelled to keep awake. Every now 
and then, as he saw them sneaking about in the dark- 
ness, he could not help muttering an angry ejacula- 
tion ; and he had made up his mind, as soon as 
morning came, to empty his gun at one of the pack, 
by way of satisfying his feelings. 

After a spell of watching, that lasted nearly three 
hours, he perceived the first streaks of dawn in the east. 

“By the time we get breakfast cooked,” thought 
Basil, “ there will be light enough to follow the trail ; 
so I ’ll rouse Frank and Euce ; and, by way of a 
change, I ’ll give them a reveilU with my rifle. Let 
me pick out the largest of these sneaking wolves ; 
I ’ll put one of them at least from keeping anybody 
awake hereafter, I guess. ’ ’ 

386 


XTbe /IDi^stertous Mallet 


Basil, as he reflected thus, raised himself upon his 
knees, and looked around to select a victim. Strange 
to say, the wolves, as if they had guessed his intention, 
had scattered away from the neighbourhood of the fire, 
though several could still be seen stealing along the 
edge of the willows. Basil chose one of these which 
appeared in the dim light to be a large grey one ; and, 
levelling his piece, fired at it. As he was not very 
anxious whether he killed the animal or not, he fired 
carelessly. 

Following the shot there was heard a loud scream, 
that was answered by fifty others, from all sides of the 
valley. It awoke the sleeping hunters ; who, along 
with Basil, sprang to their feet. It was not the 
scream of wolves they had heard, but a cry of far 
different import. It was the yell of human voices — 
the war-cry of Indians ! 

All three stood speechless with terror ; but, even 
could they have spoken, there was scarcely time allowed 
them to have uttered a word ; for, almost simultaneous 
with the yells, there was a rushing forward of dark 
forms ; and the next moment fifty tall savages were 
around them. Basil, who had been farthest out from 
the fire, was knocked senseless by a blow ; while Lucien 
and Francois, who did not think of using their guns, 
were seized by the brawny arms of the Indians and 
held fast. It was fortunate for them that they did not 
make any resistance, else the savages would have killed 
387 


Ubc IfDunters 


all three upon the spot. As it was, even, they seemed 
for a while undetermined whether to do So or not — as 
it was one of their number that Basil had mistaken for 
a wolf, and the shot had wounded the Indian, which, 
of course, exasperated them greatly. Perceiving, how- 
ever, the small force of the party, and that the boys 
made no further resistance, they gave up the idea of 
killing them on the spot, but bound the arms of all 
three behind their backs ; and then, after having 
mounted them on their horses, and gathered up their 
guns and blankets, led them out of the valley. At a 
short distance off, the Indians reached a spot where 
their own horses were tied. Here they halted for a 
moment — until each had got into his saddle — and then 
the whole party, prisoners and all, set off at a brisk 
trot over the prairie. 

In about an hour they arrived at a large encamp- 
ment upon the bank of a broad shallow river. There 
were nearly an hundred lodges standing upon the 
plain ; and the ground was littered with buffalo horns 
and hides, while vast quantities of the flesh of these 
animals were hanging from poles in front of every 
lodge. There were fires, and camp-kettles, and dogs, 
and Indian ponies, and women, and children — all mixed 
up together, or moving to and fro among the tents. 

In front of the encampment, and near the bank of 
the stream, the prisoners were thrown upon the 
ground. Their captors left them ; but they were at 
388 


tlbe /Ibssterious Mallet 


once surrounded by a crowd of yelling squaws and 
children. These at first regarded them only with 
curiosity ; but as soon as they heard that one of the 
Indians had been wounded, they uttered the most 
hideous and piercing cries, and approached their 
captives with threatening looks and gestures. They 
commenced their cowardly torture by pulling the ears 
and hair of the boys, and sticking arrow-points into 
their arms and shoulders ; and then, by way of having 
a little fun, several of the squaws seized hold of, and 
dragged the three prisoners out into the middle of the 
stream. Here they ducked them, keeping their heads 
for a long time under water, all the while yelling and 
laughing like so many demons. The poor captives for 
a while believed that these women were about to drown 
them, and, tied as they were, they could make no effort 
to save themselves. This, however, was not the inten- 
tion of the squawks ; they were only disposed to have 
as much fun out of them as possible. After they had 
got tired of this amusement, they dragged the boys 
back again to the bank, and flung them dripping upon 
the grass. 

But what was Basil doing all this time ? Did he not 
possess a charm about him, that would have put an end 
to all this torturing treatment, and have made the In- 
dians friends instead of such cruel enemies ? Ah ! poor 
Basil ! he had suffered worse than any of the three. I 
shall tell you how it was with him. 

389 


trbe 1[3unter^ 


At their capture Basil had been stunned by the blow 
of a tomahawk. He had been knocked quite sense- 
less ; and although he recovered himself so far as to 
be able to ride to the Indian camp, it was not until 
after the ducking he received in the cold river that he 
fairly came to himself. As soon as he did so, he be- 
thought himself of that which he carried under the 
breast of his hunting-shirt. In fact, his brothers had 
been reminding him of it every moment, anxiously en- 
treating him to make use of a secret of which neither 
of them fully understood the nature. But, up to this 
time, Basil, bewildered by the blow, was scarcely con- 
scious of what he did. He had now recovered himself, 
and was making every effort to get at the string, and 
draw the embroidered pouch from his breast ; but bis 
hands were tied behind him, and he could not use them ! 
He essayed to reach it with his mouth, but all his 
efforts were in vain. He then turned towards his 
brothers, so that they might stretch forward and draw 
out the string with their teeth. They were no longer 
near him ! The squaws had dragged them to some 
distance off ; and, like himself, their ankles were tied 
together, and they could not move from the spot where 
they had been placed. 

Basil saw all this with a feeling of consternation ; 
for, judging from the cruel treatment to which they 
had been submitted, and from the excited and exasper- 
ated manner of the Indians, he began to fear the worst. 


390 


XTbe /ID^stenous Mallet 


and to doubt whether the charm he carried might, after 
all, avail them. He used every effort to give it a trial. 
Failing to reach it, he made signs to the squaws around 
him, nodding with his head, and casting his eyes down- 
ward towards his breast. These, however, did not 
understand his meaning ; and only laughed at what 
appeared to them a somewhat comic pantomime. 

During the continuance of this scene, the Indian 
men stood apart, conversing together, and evidently 
deliberating what they should do with their prisoners. 
The manner of some of them was angry and excited. 
They talked loudly, and gesticulated with violence, 
occasionally pointing to a spot of level ground in front 
of the camp. The captives could see that among 
these loud talkers was the man whom Basil had 
wounded, as he carried his arm in a bandage. He 
was an ill-favoured, ferocious-looking savage ; and 
the boys, although they knew not a word that was 
uttered, could tell by his manner that he was speak- 
ing against them. To their consternation, they at 
length saw that he and his party had carried their 
point, and all the others appeared to acquiesce. What 
could their decision have been ? Were they going to 
murder them ? Agonised with these terrible appre- 
hensions, the boys watched every action of the Indians 
with the keenest solicitude. 

All at once each one of the savages was seen to arm 
himself with a bow ; while two of their number, carry- 

391 


TLbc IF^unters 


ing a large stake, proceeded out into the open ground, 
and planted it firmly in the earth. O God ! the horrid 
truth now became clear. It was their intention to tie 
their prisoners to the stake, and use them as a target 
for their arrows ! The boys had heard that this was 
a common custom among Indians with their captives ; 
and each of them uttered a cry of terror, as they recog- 
nised the fearful preparations. 

They had but little time to shout to each other ; 
and what they said was drowned by the yells of the 
squaws and children, who leaped and danced over 
the ground, evidently delighted with the prospect of 
the horrid spectacle they were about to witness. 

Fortunately Basil was selected as the first victim. 
His superior size and age, no doubt obtained him 
that preference. He was rudely seized by a pair of 
Indians and dragged up to the stake, where the .sav- 
ages commenced stripping him — by way of making 
a better mark of his naked body ! 

As soon as they had loosened his arms and pulled 
off his hunting-shirt, the embroidered pouch attracted 
their attention. One of them seized it, and drew forth 
its contents — which proved to be a pipe-head of the red 
clay-stone — the celebrated steatite. As soon as the 
savage set his e5^es upon it, he uttered a strange excla- 
mation, and handed it to his companion. The latter 
took it into his hands, uttec-^ a similar ejaculation, 
and carrying it with hint, ran back to the crowd. 

' 392 


XTbe /Ibpsterious Mallet 


These, as soon as it reached them, could be seen pass- 
ing it from hand to hand, each examining it minutely, 
and making some remark ; but one Indian, more than 
the rest, seemed to be excited upon beholding it ; and 
this one, after he had gazed upon it for a moment, ran 
hurriedly towards Basil, followed by all the others ! 

This was the opportunity which Basil wished for ; 
and as the Indian stood in front of him, and pointed 
to the pipe, as if waiting for an explanation, the boy, 
his hands being now free, deliberately and with cool- 
ness made several signs which had been taught him 
by his father. These signs were at once understood 
by the Indian, who sprang forward, pulled off the 
cords that bound Basil’s ankles, raised him to his feet, 
embracing him as he did so with friendly exclama- 
tions ! All the other Indians now pressed forward, 
and grasped him by the hand, while some ran to 
Tucien and Franyois, who, in a few moments, were 
likewise set free ! 

All three were now carried to one of the tents ; dry 
clothes were put upon them, and as soon as it could 
be got ready, a feast was set before them ; so that their 
captors, who but the moment before were about to put 
them one by one to a most cruel death, now seemed 
to strive with each other which should honour them 
the most ! The Indian, however, who had shown 
so much interest at se^hig the mysterious pipe-head, 
was allowed to take precedence in waiting upon them ; 

39 ? 


Ube :fiSop IfDunters 


and it was into his tent that our adventurers had been 
carried. 

You will by this time wonder what there could be 
in a simple pipe-head, to have caused all this sudden 
and mysterious effect. I will tell you in as few' words 
as possible. 

You have no doubt heard of the celebrated Shawano 
chief, Tecumseh — perhaps the greatest Indian warrior 
that ever lived, as well as the most remarkable of 
Indian statesmen. You may have heard, too, that 
during the last war between England and the United 
States, Tecumseh, taking advantage of the difference 
between these nations, endeavoured to excite the In- 
dians to a general rising, for the purpose of driving 
all white men from the soil of America. Tecumseh 
had a brother, Klswatawa, better known by the name 
of “the Prophet.” This brother was to the full as 
enthusiastic as the chief himself in the wish to carry 
out their great design ; and for this purpose he under- 
took a crusade to every tribe of Indians in the western 
parts of America. He was a man of great talents and 
eloquence, and was received with friendship wherever 
he went. The cause which he advocated w^as dear to 
all Indians ; and of course he was listened to, and 
smoked the calumet with the men of every tribe. Now 
this very calumet, which had been used by the Prophet 
throughout all his wanderings, was the identical one 
which Basil carried, and which, by its strange carvings 
394 


XTbe /iD^stertous Mallet 


and hieroglyphics, was at once recognised by these 
Indians, who were of the Osage tribe, one of those 
which the Prophet had visited. 

But you will ask, how this calumet came into the 
possession of Basil’s father, and why its possession 
insured such mysterious protection to our adventurers. 
That I can also explain. Tecumseh was killed in the 
war with the Americans ; but the Prophet lived for 
many years afterwards. Shortly after having emi- 
grated to America, during one of his excursions near 
St. lyouis, the Colonel — the father of our boy hunters — 
met with this strange Indian ; and, through some cir- 
cumstances which happened, the Frenchman and he 
became fast friends. Presents were exchanged be- 
tween them, and that which was received by the latter 
was the red calumet. The Prophet, on giving it, told 
the Colonel, that if ever he should have occasion to 
wander among the Indian tribes, it might prove useful 
to him ; and at the same time initiated him into cer- 
tain signs which he was to make use of in such time 
of need. In these signs the Colonel had instructed 
Basil, and we have already witnessed their effect. The 
Indian who had best understood them, and in whom 
they had produced the strongest emotions, happened 
to be a Shawano himself — one of that very tribe to 
which both the Prophet and Tecumseh belonged ; and 
which is now but a remnant — most of its warlike sons 
being either dead, or scattered among the nomad bands 
395 


trbe iSo^ IFDunter^ 


that roam over the great Western prairies. Such, then, 
was the history of the red calumet, which had proved 
the protector of our adventurous hunters. 

In a short time they were enabled to communicate 
with the Indians by signs ; for no people can under- 
stand such language better than Indians. The boys 
informed the Shawano who they were, and for what 
purpose they had ventured upon the prairies. On 
learning the nature of their expedition, the Indians 
were filled with astonishment as well as admiration for 
the courage of these young hunters. They told the 
latter, in return, that they themselves were out hunt- 
ing the buffaloes — that they were now on the skirts of 
the great herd, and they believed that one or two wki/e 
buffaloes had been seen. Furthermore, they added, 
that if the boys would remain, and hunt for a few days 
in company with them, no pains should be spared to 
kill or capture one of these animals, which should be 
placed at the disposal of their young guests. Of course, 
this invitation was cheerfully accepted. 

I might narrate many more adventures that befell 
our Boy Him ter s ; but I fear, young reader, you are 
already tired of the prairies. Suffice it, then, to say, 
that after some days spent in hunting with the Indians, 
a white buffalo was at length killed, his skin taken off 
in the proper manner, and, after being saturated with 
a preserving ointment, which Tucien had brought along 
396 


XTbe /lD\?stenovi6 Mallet 


with him, was carefully packed upon the back of the 
mule Jeanette. Our adventurers now bade farewell to 
their Indian friends, and set out on their return home- 
wards. They were accompanied to the confines of 
Louisiana by the Shawano and several other Indians, 
who there took leave of them. In due time they safely 
reached the old house at Point Coupee ; where I need 
not tell you they met with a joyous and affectionate 
welcome, both from their father and the ex-chasseur^ 
Hugot. The old naturalist had gained what he wished 
for, and was as happy as man could be. He was 
prouder than ever of his boy meit — his “ young Nim- 
rods,” as he now called them — and on many a winter’s 
night by the cheerful log-fire, did he take pleasure in 
listening to the story of their adventures in search of a 
white buffalo. 


THK KND. 


397 




> 


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BY KIRK MUNROE 


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LE 0 '10 


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